She’s a good filly, a fine filly. You’re all making a mistake heah, a big mistake. Now let’s open up our wallets. Heah we go!”

But before he could begin his chant, a man sitting almost directly below him said quietly but loudly enough to be heard throughout the pavilion, “Jim, you’re wastin’ our time as well as yours. Most of us heah know this filly as well as you do since she was foaled and raised only a couple of miles away. And we know there’s a lot more to tell about her than what you’ve been shoutin’ at us from up theah. So you’d better just sell her for what you got now and get on with the other horses. I for one want to get home before we’re all snowed in.”

The auctioneer was silent for a moment, and his face showed that he was furious at the interruption. “All right, Bill,” he said at last, “if that’s the way you want it. But you all listen to me for one more second about this heah filly. Those of us left are mostly homefolks, born and raised right around these parts. We were all good friends of Doc Chandler. We all know what kind of horses he bred. This heah filly is one of them. And I maintain, in spite of what you all think you know, that someone is going to make monkeys out of all you with this heah filly.” He paused. “Now, boys, for the last time do I heah any bids higher than seven hundred dollars?”

Henry pushed back his hat. The time had come for him to get the auctioneer’s attention. He nodded and raised one finger and his lips moved to say one thousand. He hoped a boost of three hundred dollars over the last bid for the filly would discourage anyone else from bidding and would close the sale of Black Minx.

It did just that. The gavel fell on the board as the auctioneer said, “Sold to Henry Dailey for one thousand dollars. In my opinion he just got the best buy of this heah sale.”

Henry slumped in his seat. It had been a hard, nerve-wracking four days. Now to get his filly home to Alec—his filly!

HOME AGAIN
3

Alec’s alarm sounded at five o’clock, as it did on every morning of the year. Turning it off, he rolled quickly off his back and sat on the side of the bed, his hands supporting his head. Not that he enjoyed rising so quickly at the first burst of the alarm. No, not at all; but he knew it was the only way. To lie in bed, even for a moment, was to fall asleep again, and too many horses were waiting to be fed.

He seemed sleepier than usual this morning, as he looked out the window into the darkness. He would be glad to see the long days of summer again, and awaken once more to the light. It always seemed easier then.

Alec had on his sweatshirt and overalls, and was putting on his boots when he remembered. No wonder he was so sleepy! Henry and the filly had arrived shortly after midnight.