“But I don’t believe the engineers will ever conquer the swamp. It’s too immense.”

“Perhaps you are right,” the captain said quietly, “but they’re making progress. I, too, resent and challenge this conquest by the white man. It will not be long before—”

The captain stopped abruptly as if, perhaps, he had said too much. There was a haunted look in his eyes and Alec wondered what had caused it.

“But enough of such talk, Alec. We must continue with our discussion of you and your horse. You said you were not alone?”

Alec smiled to himself. The trade of information had begun and now it was his turn.

“I’m not alone in that we’re staying at Sugarfoot Ranch,” he said. “We’ve been there a little over a week, resting up after racing at Hialeah Park in Miami. My partner and trainer, Henry Dailey, went up north a few days ago to look after some two-year-olds, but he’ll be back within a week. Then we go to New York to prepare for the spring racing season at Aqueduct.”

“I see,” the captain said, his eyes once more becoming hard and cold. “Then you are alone with your horse.”

Alec felt his uneasiness return. He didn’t know what the captain meant. They’d be expecting him back at the ranch by afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t alone. Whatever thoughts the captain had were locked up tightly inside him. Yet Alec found that he no longer distrusted him as he had earlier. Slowly he was acquiring more and more information and the pieces were fitting together. Soon he’d come up with the whole picture.

“Racing is a rough business,” he told the captain. “We’re on the go most of the time. I suppose it’s much like circus work.”

“I suppose so. Neither is the work for timid souls.”

“Timid?” Alec repeated. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. But you’re right. If you’re going to race timidly, you might as well stay home.”

“Timidity has no place in the circus either,” the captain said quietly. “Let me show you some old prints I have here.”

He went to a trunk near the fireplace and removed a thick folder. From it he took some pictures and spread them on the table. Alec saw horses and riders leaping through hoops of fire and over the backs of elephants and tigers. The prints dated back to the early 1800s. There was one that intrigued him more than the others. It showed a beautiful white horse wearing simulated wings and flying over four horses standing below.

“This is supposed to be Pegasus?” he asked the captain.

“Oui, Alec.