The Black Stallion's Blood Bay Colt (30 page)

“Y'mean she's not like us
kids
?” George asked without taking his eyes from the road.

Jimmy laughed loudly then. “Yeah,” he said, “that's it.”

Tom felt Jimmy's hand on his knee, and he laughed with him. This was the old Jimmy Creech. Things were going to be …

“She just wants room and board,” Jimmy said. “No money.” And when he mentioned the word
money
he turned to George. “We got enough left to last us through the winter?”

Taking a deep breath, Tom turned away to look out the car window. Once again, it was coming. George had paid all the bills out of their winnings, and had shown the receipted bills to Jimmy. But even though the amounts shown on the statements were less than they had actually paid the Boston surgeon and the hospital, they were large enough to make Jimmy wonder how they'd ever done it racing
at the fairs
.

George said, “We'll get through the winter all right. You don't need to worry none, Jimmy. Like I been tellin' you, I'm still the treasurer of this outfit.”

Jimmy sat back in the car seat, and although he was silent Tom knew he was still thinking about money. Finally Jimmy turned to him.

“I don't know how you an' Bonfire did it, Tom,” he said sincerely.

“He's a champ …” Tom started to say, then quickly added, “I mean, he just didn't have any competition at the fairs.”

“But, still I don't see how you did it,” Jimmy insisted. “I never made so much money as you two did in any one season as long as I been racin'.”

“Purses were bigger,” George said, coming to Tom's assistance.

Jimmy was silent after that. But Tom shifted uneasily in his seat. He and George were just getting into this thing deeper and deeper by not telling Jimmy about Roosevelt Raceway. George wanted to wait until
Jimmy was fully recovered. Yet how were they going to continue keeping this from Jimmy? How? When newspapers and national magazines, as well as all racing publications, still carried stories about the “phenomenally fast” blood bay colt owned by Jimmy Creech of Coronet, Pennsylvania. When not a single day passed that many visitors, including photographers and sportswriters, did not come to see Bonfire!

They couldn't leave their colt alone for a moment. Even today they had hired a man to look after Bonfire while they came for Jimmy.

George had said Jimmy wouldn't visit the stables for a number of weeks, and they'd make certain he never saw a newspaper or a magazine that carried a story or an article on Bonfire's winning the Two-Year-Old Championship Race at Roosevelt Raceway.

Could they keep news of that importance from Jimmy Creech? Tom wondered and doubted it, now that Jimmy was out of the hospital. And he didn't want to think what would happen when Jimmy found out.

“We got enough left, George, to get us goin' next season?” Jimmy asked.

George nodded. “Leave that all to me,” he said.

Enough money left?
Tom fidgeted, even though Jimmy was silent again. To Jimmy's account in the bank they had deposited three thousand dollars. All that money even after they had paid every bill and bought all new racing equipment for the coming season!

And that wasn't all.

Tom's hand went to the letter from Uncle Wilmer that he carried in his pocket. The letter which read in part: “All kinds of folks have been a-coming here to the
farm to see the Queen, just because she's the dam of Bonfire. They come from all over—Amityville, Earlville, Boyertown, Reading and some from Philadelphia and New York. I figured I could keep 'em away so I could get some work done around here by putting up a sign on the road telling everybody it costs a dollar to see the mare. But it didn't keep 'em away like I thought it would. Nope, more came even. And now I got more money than I can get in the corner cupboard bowl. You ask Jimmy what I should do about all this money. I figure most of it belongs to him—but I oughta get maybe ten percent of it for thinkin' this idea up.”

In addition to all this, there was the wealthy man from New York City, who had arrived at Coronet one day the previous week, offering a hundred thousand dollars for the blood bay colt. When Tom and George had flatly refused this fabulous price for Bonfire, the story made the headlines of every newspaper sports section in the country.

Suddenly Jimmy turned to Tom, and the boy found it difficult to take his eyes from the window to look at him.

“You know what I'm goin' to do next season, Tom?”

“No, Jimmy. What?”

Jimmy slapped Tom's knee again. “I'm not one to be dumb enough to break up a winnin' combination like you an' Bonfire. The doc said I could go to the fairs, all right, but thought it best for me if I let you do all the race drivin'. I told him all about you an' the colt, Tom. So I'm goin' to do jus' that. I'm goin' to teach you all I can an' just watch you and Bonfire go. That's goin'
to be just as good as anything I could ever ask for. And that's the way it's goin' to be.”

“You mean it, Jimmy?” Tom asked excitedly. “You're going to let me drive him all the time?”

“Why, sure I mean it. I don't say anything unless I mean it.”

“Tom and the colt are a winnin' combination, all right,” George said.

Jimmy turned to him, noddingly wisely. “I knew that all along,” he said. He was silent for a few minutes, then spoke again. “What'd Miss Elsie do with that black filly of hers?”

George replied more quickly than Tom thought he would.

“A race record of two o three at the Reading Fair,” George said.

“No!” Jimmy half-shouted. “Then she broke the world's record for two-year-olds!”

“Yes, she
did
,” George answered quietly.

“Then the filly was the one Miss Elsie's been waitin' for,” Jimmy said thoughtfully.

Tom was looking out the window again, hoping Jimmy would stop there. Everything George had said so far was the truth. Princess Guy
had
broken the world's record at the Reading Fair. It was after that that she had been beaten by Bonfire in a
new
world's record of 1:59. Yes, Princess Guy was the one that Miss Elsie had been waiting for. But Jimmy hadn't heard her say, “It's too bad for me, Tom, that your colt came along the same year. Princess Guy is still the one I'd wanted. She's faster than Mr. Guy, and that's all I could ask. It's
no disgrace for her to be beaten by Bonfire … it's
his
year. But maybe next season will be
ours
,” she'd added hopefully.

“What race record did you give Bonfire at the fairs, Tom?” When the boy didn't seem to hear him, Jimmy repeated his question.

“He won in two nineteen … 
at the fairs
,” Tom said.

“Port Royal Fair,” George added quickly.

“You shoulda let him out more,” Jimmy said. “He can go a lot faster than that … maybe even give the black filly some sort of a race. But she sure must have gone!” Jimmy added, shaking his head. “Just imagine
any
two-year-old going in two o three!”

Jimmy was silent after that, and Tom and George didn't speak either, for they had no wish to keep Jimmy on the subject of records.

They were well out of Pittsburgh and only a few miles from the town of Coronet when they came to the road leading across the fields to the stables.

“Turn here, George,” Jimmy said. “I just want to take a peek at him.”

Tom stopped breathing, while George's knuckles on the steering wheel turned white.

“Mrs. Davis probably, has supper all ready for you,” George said. “Besides, the doc said—”

“Mrs. Davis is workin' for me, and she'll wait,” Jimmy interrupted, a little angry. “An' Doc Morton said for me to take it easy, nothin' more. He didn't say I couldn't take a look at my colt!”

Still, George did not slow the car to make the turn. “It's too late,” he said. “I got to get home … so has Tom.”

“Who's going to feed and bed down the colt then?” Jimmy asked, and he was more angry now. “You got to take care of him, haven't you? Well, I'll just go along with you
now
.”

Tom saw the reddening of Jimmy's face. “Sure,” he said, “you might just as well go along with us, then you can stay home and relax knowing everything is okay with Bonfire.” Tom turned to meet George's surprised look. “It's late and Miss Elsie or the
others
won't be around to bother Jimmy.”

“No one's goin' to bother me, Tom,” Jimmy half-shouted. “You two treat me like y'would a baby!”

George was slowing the car, then he made the turn. No one spoke after that until they were within sight of the long gray sheds.

“Boy, it's good to see them again,” Jimmy said, smiling. “That sight is better for me than any medicine in the world.”

Tom's eyes were on the sheds, too. He hoped desperately that all the visitors to Bonfire's stall had gone. It was after five o'clock; they should be gone. If they had, things might work out all right. If they hadn't … well, he wouldn't think about that.

They approached the road that ran down between the sheds. Tom saw no cars at the far end, not even Miss Elsie's jeep. So she'd gone home for the day. George, too, was watching closely for any sign of visitors.

Then they turned into the row, and down at the end in front of their shed were the parked cars! But now there was no turning back.

Jimmy saw the cars, and then the people leaving Bonfire's shed.

“What are all those people doin' here?” He was surprised, but not excited. He just wanted to know.

“They must have come to see Princess Guy,” George said quickly without turning to Jimmy.

Jimmy's gaze went to Miss Elsie's shed which they were passing. “Why aren't they there, then?”

“Miss Elsie's gone home, so I guess we're just getting the overflow,” George returned. “After all, we got a good-looking colt, Jimmy.”

Tom didn't know how George could think so fast, for he wasn't able to think at all. George stopped the car a good distance from their shed.

“What you stoppin' here for?” Jimmy asked.

Opening the door on his side, George said, “I thought I'd go first and get rid of those people. You an' Tom wait here.”

“No, I don't,” Jimmy shouted, moving behind George. “I don't stay anywhere I don't want to stay. And now I want to see that colt. I'm coming along.” He was excited now; he didn't like the way he was being pushed around.

Tom could only follow him. He saw Jimmy walk beside George a moment, then his pace increased until Jimmy was half-running. George started to run after him, but finally gave up and came to a halt.

“What'll we do, George?”

“Pray … just pray.” George tried to grin, and failed.

“Most of the visitors are out of the shed,” Tom said. “Maybe Jimmy won't talk to anyone. He'll just take a look at the colt and come out again.”

“Maybe,” was all George said.

“But he'll see the new sulky and the training cart,” Tom said miserably. “I left them near the door.”

“And all the new harness and the wheels,” George added quietly. “An' he can't miss those new blankets. Bonfire's wearin' one.”

“And the hot-water heater,” Tom said. “And the new pails and brushes and cloths and sponges.”

George nodded. “Yeah, he can't miss any of the stuff.”

“But he knows we need all of it,” Tom said hopefully. “We'll tell him we had some money—a little money—left over.”

“He knows how much that equipment costs,” George said. “I can see him figuring it all up right now, just as though I was standin' right beside him.”

“Then all he'll know is that we made more money than we've let on,” Tom said quickly. “He won't know about Roosevelt Raceway. He won't know unless …” He stopped and his brow furrowed. “George! Where's that big trophy we got when Bonfire won the championship? Where'd you put it last?”

“That's what I been rememberin',” George said in a low voice. “I took it out of the trunk yesterday and put it up on the tack-room table. I jus' thought I'd look at it again.”

“And it's still there?”

Soberly, George nodded.

“Maybe he won't go into the tack room. Maybe he won't,” Tom said.

“We'll know any second now,” George replied. “All
we got to do is listen.” But even as he said it, George started walking toward the shed, and Tom followed.

They were almost at the door when the bellow came. And the shrillness and fury of it caused them and the visitors who were on their way to parked cars to stop short. Then George and Tom were moving again, and when they reached the shed door, the last of the visitors came running out. George went inside and Tom followed, closing the door behind him.

Jimmy Creech stood at the other end of the shed, bellowing fiercely. He was holding the tall gold-plated trophy in his hands, reading the inscription on it. When he had finished he looked up and saw them; then the trophy came sailing through the air as he hurled it at their feet. It rolled past them, striking with a sharp ring against the door.

Bonfire shrilled at the sound of it, then moved uneasily back and forth in his stall. Quickly Tom went to him, going inside the stall to quiet the colt. He ran his hand up and down Bonfire's head while Jimmy Creech continued raging without making his words understandable.

George didn't move from the door. He waited for Jimmy to quiet down, but many minutes passed before Jimmy's angry bellows stopped; then Tom heard his footsteps coming toward them. He held Bonfire's head closer, wondering whether he was doing this to comfort the colt or himself.

Still trembling with rage, Jimmy stopped before the stall. He looked at Tom and the colt a long while before turning to George, who remained at the door.
Yet he said nothing until he turned back to Tom again.
“Why?”
he asked hoarsely.