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Authors: Walter Farley

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BOOK: Son of the Black Stallion
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But it had been many months since Alec had left Arabia and the black stallion, and during that time there had been no word from Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak. Yet the sheikh had promised, and Alec couldn’t believe the Arab chieftain would go back on his word.

The dog stirred as Alec moved his knees. “C’mon, Seb,” the boy said. “I guess we’d better get going.” He lifted the dog and placed him upon his feet before standing up himself.

What weight Alec Ramsay carried was all in his broad shoulders, chest and arms. From there he tapered down to a small waist, slender thighs and legs.

As he walked across the field, Sebastian following closely at his heels, his keen blue eyes sought the barn. He wanted to say hello to Tony, not having seen the huckster for some time, and he knew that very often Tony and his aged horse, Napoleon, would have completed their neighborhood rounds by this time of day.

The hot August sun overhead caused the
perspiration to drop slowly from Alec’s forehead and run down the sides of his face and across the high cheekbones. He swept it away with his hand and then brushed an arm across his forehead, pushing his red, tousled hair back from his eyes.

When he reached the barn and went inside, he saw Napoleon. The gray horse shoved his head over the stall door and neighed. Alec stroked the soft muzzle, took several lumps of sugar from the pocket of his corduroy trousers, and gave them to the horse. Suddenly the quiet of the barn was blasted by Tony’s booming voice, and Alec heard him sing, “
To-re-a-dor-e
 … dada … dada … 
DA
.
Toreador! Toreador!

Alec smiled. Tony was here, all right. With a final pat on Napoleon’s nose Alec went to the tack room in the rear, Sebastian padding softly behind him.

“Hi, Tony,” he greeted. “Doing some polishing?”

“Allo, Aleec.

, I maka nice an’ clean for my Napoleon. But it’sa all finish now.” Tony rose from his chair and hung the harness he had been polishing upon its wooden peg. That done, he turned his bright, black eyes toward the light racing bridle hanging close beside the harness. His hand touched the soft, well-polished leather. “You keepa in good condition, Aleec, no?” he said, without looking at his friend.

“No sense letting it go to rot,” Alec replied. “It’s a good bridle.”

There was a short pause before Tony spoke again. “You heard from thata man … what you call heem … Ab …”

“Abu Ishak?” Alec said.



, that’sa heem,” Tony said, nodding his head.

“No,” Alec answered. “I haven’t heard from him.”

“You theenk he will send you da horse like he promise when you leave hees country?”

Alec sat down in Tony’s vacated chair and ran his hand over Sebastian before answering. “I think so, Tony,” he said quietly.

“If he doesn’t, heesa one big liar,” Tony said angrily. “You tooka good care of da beeg Black when theesa man thought he wasa drowned, no? Then thees Abu comes along much time later and says to da Black, ‘We go,’ and offa they go.”

“But the Black belonged to him, Tony.”

The little huckster rose to his feet, his black eyes upon Alec. “Da beeg Black belonga to you always, Aleec. Hees heart belonga to you. It’sa that that’sa decides, and not papers!”

“Okay, Tony,” Alec said resignedly. “He belongs to me, and I loved him. I guess that’s why, even if I could have had him, I’d rather see him in Arabia. It’s his home. He’s happier there.” Alec’s eyes met Tony’s. “Abu Ishak is a good man, Tony,” he said. “He loves the Black as much as I do. And with him he’ll bring into the world other fine horses like the Black. I couldn’t have done that, Tony.… It costs a lot to breed horses.” Alec paused a few seconds, and then concluded, “It’s better this way … I know it is.”

There were several minutes of silence before Tony said, “And Abu, he promise you wan of these fine horses after you follow him to hees country and ween big race for him on da Black, no?”

“Yes,” Alec admitted, his eyes still on Sebastian. “He said that he would send me the Black’s first foal.”
Then, half to himself, he added, “A colt or a filly … I wonder which it will be?”

Tony said, “Did Henree hear heem say this thing?”

“No, but I told him about it on our way back from Arabia.” Smiling, Alec added, “No witnesses, Tony, if that’s what you’re driving at. Besides, there’s no way in the world to compel Abu Ishak to give me the first foal. It’s up to him … his word.” Then as though to change the subject Alec said, “Henry and I have been writing to each other. He seems to like his job.”

“I’ma glad,” Tony returned. “Heesa training race horses again, no?”

“He’s working in California for Peter Boldt, who has one of the finest racing stables in the country,” Alec told him. “Boldt offered Henry the job soon after we got back from Arabia. It was a swell break!”

“I’ma glad he’s happy, Aleec.” Laughing, Tony added, “When old men lik’a Henree an’ me are happy we can keepa up with you younga fellas.” Tony picked up his black battered hat and moved toward the door. “You will be happy, too, Aleec, when the new one arrives.

, he will come like you say. Now I feel it strong lik’a you.”

“Thanks, Tony.” Alec smiled at his friend’s words of encouragement. Then they left the barn together.

They parted outside the iron gate. Alec watched Tony shuffling up the tree-lined street, and then followed Sebastian as the dog ran toward home. He wished that he was as certain that Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak would keep his word as he had implied in his conversation with Tony. It was true that he thought of the sheikh as his friend, and had believed him that day
in Arabia when the chieftain had said, “The Black’s first foal will be yours, Alec, and I shall send him to you.” How well he remembered those words of the sheikh! How many dreams, hopes and plans he had built upon them! They had made his leaving the Black in Arabia much easier, for he had known that before too long there would come to him a horse through whose veins would run the blood of the great black stallion. And this horse would be his, his very own, to love, to raise and to train for the track. He had raced him a million times in his dreams, had driven him thundering past the turf kings of the day as they stretched for the wire.

And only Henry knew of his dreams and plans. For together they had discussed them on their way back from Arabia and for many months in their letters to each other. And the old trainer’s eyes had glowed as bright as his when they talked about this horse to be. But, lately, Henry’s letters had arrived less and less frequently. Alec realized that Henry was busy, for Boldt had the largest string of racers in the country and with them had won the top races last year. Yes, Alec decided as he reached the porch steps, Henry had plenty to do besides writing him, even if Henry was “only one of Boldt’s four trainers,” as he had so often written in his letters. It had been a wonderful opportunity for Henry, getting this job with Boldt. Anyone would have jumped at it. But Alec did miss him.

When he reached the porch Alec flung himself on the hammock, and Sebastian jumped up beside him. Alec knew that his mother was out shopping, and that his father would not be home from work for at least an
hour. This would be a good time to think about his horse again, to plan.…

Then he saw the envelope propped against the flower vase on the small table. It hadn’t been there when he’d left the house. Rising from the hammock, he went over to the table and picked up the envelope. For several seconds the writing upon it seemed to become blurred and then he read again his name and the return address.

Slowly, he walked back to the hammock and sat down. Sebastian moved over to his lap and whimpered. Alec pushed the dog’s head to one side and then hastily ripped the envelope open, removing several papers. On top, in Abu Ishak’s familiar handwriting, was a short note:

Arabia
July 15th

D
EAR
A
LEC
,

As I promised, the firstborn of Shêtân, or your Black, will be shipped to you aboard the steamer
Queen of India,
due to leave Addis on the thirtieth of this month, and arriving in New York on the twenty-eighth of August. I’m enclosing all necessary papers, the transfer of ownership, his registration in the Stud Book of Arabia, and papers to claim him upon arrival in New York. Yes, Alec, it is a colt, and he’s coal black like his sire except for a small white diamond in the center of his forehead
.

May the great Allah be with you, and may the colt love you as does his sire
.

Affectionately
,
A
BU
J
A‘
K
UB BEN
I
SHAK

Alec’s eyes were moist as he finished reading the note. And to think that there had been times when he doubted the promise of the sheikh! As he read the other papers enclosed, Sebastian whimpered for attention and Alec automatically patted the dog. Yes, everything was there, just as Abu Ishak had written. Everything that was necessary to claim the colt as
his colt
. Everything, just as he and Henry had planned. This was the beginning!

Alec suddenly jumped from the hammock and shouted so loudly that Sebastian growled, looking for an intruder. Finding none, the dog leapt to the floor and followed Alec as he ran across the porch.

As Alec flung open the screen door, he turned to the dog and playfully slapped him on the back. “You’re going to have a pal, Seb!” he shouted. “… A real pal!”

With Sebastian at his heels he ran into the house, climbed the stairs to the second floor, and entered the large front bedroom. Rushing to his desk, Alec seized pen and paper. Before writing, he glanced out the window, and his gaze rested on the old barn and the green flowing field. It wouldn’t be long now before
his
colt would be grazing out there, and old Napoleon would again have a neighbor in the stall next to his! Abu Ishak had said the ship would arrive on the twenty-eighth. The twenty-eighth! And today was the twenty-third!

Eagerly, Alec turned to the notepaper in front of him and began his letter. “Dear Henry …”

S
INISTER
E
YES
3

Alec’s mother stood quietly on the porch as her son and husband walked to the small, dark sedan parked by the curb. Her gaze wavered from the car a moment and took in the old barn and green field across the street, then returned as the sedan’s motor caught.

She was afraid. Afraid of what this new horse would bring. Twice before a horse,
his
horse, had led Alec to undertakings few men had ever experienced. Undertakings which for him had been adventurous, exciting. But for her and her husband, they had meant months of anguish and concern.

She closed her eyes and made herself think of her husband’s words early that morning as they had lain in bed: “His horse is his world, Belle, and we can’t drive it out of him. We shouldn’t even try.” And then she had detected a note of pride in his voice as he had added, “And you remember how that wild black stallion took to him, Belle. Henry told me that he’d never seen anything like it before. And the way Alec could
ride him! Why, no tame horse could set foot on the same track with those two! Belle, he just grew up there on his back.… He just grew there.” Then, when he had turned to her and had seen how worried she was, he had taken her hand and, patting it, had said, “But there’s nothing to get disturbed about this time, Belle. It’s just a pony he’s getting today … a little pony whom we’ll probably enjoy having around as much as we do Sebastian.”

Now her eyes followed the car as it rolled down the street. Yes, she thought, it’ll be a pony now, but a full-grown horse before very long. And he’ll always have the blood of that wild black stallion running through his veins.

Alec’s gaze left his father’s long, thin face as the car neared the corner, and his arm went around Sebastian, who sat quietly between them.

“Your mother’s a little worried, Alec.”

“Yes, I know, Dad. But she really shouldn’t be.”

“That’s exactly what I told her, but you know mothers.” Then Mr. Ramsay lowered his voice to that man-to-man tone Alec knew so well and added, “You’ve had enough excitement in the last few years to last you a lifetime, Alec. So take it easy with the new one, will you? You’ll be able to have a lot of fun with this pony. Then when he’s grown up a bit, you can go for nice slow rides through the park. Good bridle trails up there … but I guess you know all about them.” Sebastian whimpered and Alec’s father removed one hand from the steering wheel to pat him. “Yes, Alec, you can make a nice little pal of him, just like Sebby.”

Pony
 … nice
slow
rides through the park! Alec wondered what his father would have to say when he told him about Henry and his plans to train the black colt for the track.

“Mind you, Alec,” his father was saying, “I’m not trying to run your life. You’re old enough now to know what you want, and to do your own thinking. I guess I don’t have to tell you that, for you must know that Mother and I are very proud of the way you’ve been able to handle yourself.”

“Yes, Dad,” Alec replied quietly.

His father smiled. “Not that I expect this pony to cause any trouble. Not after the way you could handle his sire.”

Alec didn’t say anything, and they rode for a long time before his father asked, “You’re sure the van’s going to be at the pier, Alec? You wanted to make all the arrangements, you know.”

“Yes, Dad. It’ll be there.”

“How much is it costing you?”

Reluctantly Alec replied, “Twenty-five …”

“Hmmm. Rather steep, wasn’t it? Did it take all the money you’ve saved?”

“No, I still have plenty left. Enough to buy feed and pay Mrs. Dailey.”

“Mrs. Dailey?”

Alec smiled. “Dad! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.… Henry’s wife … lives in the big house on the corner, and owns the barn and field.”

“Oh, yes! I guess I’m getting old, Alec,” Mr. Ramsay said, laughing. “Come to think of it, your mother has been charging me with forgetfulness of late.” A
slight pause, and he added, “I shouldn’t have thought Mrs. Dailey would make you pay anything, though, what with Henry having that good job on the coast, and her taking in boarders.”

BOOK: Son of the Black Stallion
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