Finally he said, “It’s as much my fault as yours. I should have made note of the renewal date. No notice from the company should have been necessary.”

Alec watched the group of mares and colts grazing near the fence. “How much money do we have left of Black Minx’s Kentucky Derby purse?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Enough to get a bulldozer to clear the debris away,” Mr. Ramsay answered. “Most of the money went to pay off the contractor for the training track. We’re not rich at the present time, Alec.”

Alec’s eyes were drawn to two colts who rose squealing on their hind legs in rough play. “All our money whinnies,” he answered quietly.

“You’re not thinking of selling any of them?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“We might borrow on them,” Mr. Ramsay suggested tentatively.

“I’d rather not do that either. We’re enough in debt as it is.”

“Then what’s the alternative?”

“To race.”

“Of course, Black Minx,” Mr. Ramsay said quickly and simply. “I should have thought of her immediately. But then you and Henry have told me so little of her chances in the coming Preakness. I suppose what she did in the Kentucky Derby she can do again. Beating all those three-year-old colts, I mean. She ought to win the Preakness and the Belmont without too much trouble.”

For the first time that night Alec smiled. “That’s the most unhorsemanlike statement I’ve ever heard.”

“I’ve never claimed to be a horseman but I’d like to know what’s wrong with my suggesting that she’ll win all three big races?” his father asked.

“Only eight horses since 1875 have done it,” Alec explained. “And never a filly.”

“Well, fillies weren’t supposed to win the Kentucky Derby either,” Mr. Ramsay said, “but she did.”

“I know, but it’s going to be different from now on.”

“You mean you’ve lost confidence in her, Alec? After all, you should know her better than anyone else, since you ride her. And you flew down to Pimlico to work her this past week.”

“She’s got the speed and stamina to do it,” Alec said. “But I don’t know, it’s—”

“I don’t see what you’re worrying about,” his father interrupted. “What you need to do is to join Henry at once and make sure Black Minx gets a part of those big purses even if she doesn’t win. Meanwhile, I’ll start getting bids from building contractors on the new barn. There’s no sense moaning over our loss. We’ll get busy and make up for it, that’s what we’ll do.”

“I’ll have to do more than that,” Alec said quietly.

“More? You needn’t worry about us here. There’s plenty of help and Miz Liz was the last mare to foal.”

“I know,” Alec said. “I meant that I have to make doubly sure we come back with enough money for the barn.”

His father nodded. “If you feel that way, I don’t see how you and Black Minx can miss,” he said confidently.

“I think it’s going to take more than her to do it,” Alec answered. “So the Black’s going along with me.”

A hush came over the early dawn. Even the mares and foals stopped their grazing and play to watch the boy walk up the road toward the tall black stallion who awaited him.

THE RACETRACK

3

The following Saturday a widely syndicated sports-writer had an interesting column for his readers.