They’re usually a dusky color.”

Henry was silent for a few minutes. He took the chain from Alec and rolled it in his hands. “Cinch that this wasn’t made in the States, Alec,” he said.

“Guess not … the work is too fine. Henry, this may mean …”

“… that I may be right. That the guy on the ship is still alive and wants to kill the Black for some reason.”

“Or, Henry, that someone else from Arabia or somewhere in the Middle East wants to kill him.”

“Yeah.” Henry walked over to the Black and placed a hand on the flaring nose.

The sun had risen well above the trees at the east end of the field when Alec left the barn and headed for the gate and home. His feet dragged along the graveled driveway. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but Henry had talked him into it, knowing that this was the week before final exams. Exams! School! What did they matter now! Someone had attempted to kill the Black, his horse. And whoever it was might return to try again.

Henry had assured him that he would guard the stallion until Alec returned later in the day. The police would be notified, for he would stop in at the station on his way to school. Alec was sure his father would see to it that a policeman stayed near the barn at night, and Alec had every intention of sleeping in the barn with the Black. They’d change the locks on the iron gate and barn door. Summer vacation would follow next week’s exams, then he’d spend the next three months, night and day, with his horse.

He reached the high iron gate. The lock wasn’t broken and Alec doubted that anyone had scaled the fence with all that barbed wire running around the top. Obviously, the intruder had had a key or picked the lock. Still, perhaps Tony had left it open when he and old Napoleon, his gray, sway-backed horse, who shared the barn with the Black, had gone to the market to load the wagon with vegetables for the day’s business. There was a good chance, too, that the prowler, knowing what time Tony left each morning, had slipped inside after Tony had driven Napoleon through the gate without his being aware of it. He’d have to speak to Tony tonight.

Alec closed the gate behind him, locked it, and headed for the large brown house across the street. He walked slowly in spite of the fact that he knew it was getting late and he’d have to hurry if he was going to stop in at the police station and still make his first class.

Someone cruel and vicious wanted to put an end to the Black. Why? What motive could he possibly have? True, Alec knew little of the stallion’s past. Perhaps, as Henry had suggested, the answer lay there … somewhere in Arabia.

ABU JA‘ KUB BEN ISHAK
2

Later that afternoon Alec hurried home from school. He had cut his last class and was anxious to find out what Henry had learned from the police. The content of the hypodermic needle … was it poisonous? And the fingerprints … would they furnish a clue to the identity of the Black’s attacker? The police had listened to his story at the station and before Alec left the captain had ordered a patrol car to go to the barn.

As Alec approached his home he saw a black limousine parked in front; behind it was a police car. He broke into a run, and nearing the house saw the plump figure of his mother standing on the porch. “Mom,” Alec shouted, “what’s happened? The police … they’re still here?”

His mother’s voice was unemotional, but Alec noted that her face was taut and tired-looking. “They returned a short while ago,” she said. “A man’s with them, who claims to own the Black.” She paused, then added softly, “Better go over to the stable, Alec.”

Alec turned and without a word ran toward the gate, his legs pounding furiously on the pavement. Reaching the gate, he flung it open. Blood ran from his lower lip, which was held tightly between clenched teeth. A hundred thoughts rushed through his brain.