Alec smiled. “Sure, I know. You like him and he was second only to Silver Jet as a two-year-old. But how does he look now? How’d he winter?”
“My friends at the track say he never looked better,” Henry confided. “He’s sleek and in high flesh. Grew some, too, standing a scant sixteen hands. And solid, they say. He’d been turned out for a month in North Carolina. He rested and loosened up after all his hard racing last year. He started galloping the last of January and got on the farm track every day. He was shipped to New York a couple of weeks ago.”
“And how’s he been working?”
“Get this, Alec,” Henry almost whispered. “He did six furlongs the other morning in a minute and eleven seconds! And my friends say that they were impressed even more by the easy way he did it. Just as smooth as silk in action. No doubt about it,” Henry concluded. “He’s fit and ready to run.”
“Then you think he’ll have a good chance of winning today’s race, even though he’ll be carrying top weight of a hundred and twenty-five pounds?”
“Sure I do,” Henry said emphatically. “He shouldn’t have any trouble at all with the rest of ’em.”
Alec considered the distance of the race. It was only six furlongs, three-quarters of a mile. He thought it too short a race for Eclipse. And certainly it wouldn’t give them much of an idea of what the same horses might do over a longer distance. Well, they’d have just such a race in little more than a week. The Experimental Handicap was raced at two distances. Number One was today’s race at six furlongs. Number Two would be held on the fourteenth and would be run over a mile and a sixteenth, a more revealing test for Kentucky Derby eligibles.
Alec turned to Henry, who was about finished with his grooming of Black Minx. “Don’t forget Lady Lee will be in there today,” he said. “And she’ll have only a hundred and eight pounds on her back.”
“Yeah, I know,” Henry said.
“I’m surprised she wasn’t given a longer rest after all her winter racing.”
“I’m not,” Henry said.
“Why?”
“Her owner and trainer probably figure they’ve sidestepped the top colts long enough,” Henry explained. “They want to find out just what they’ve got in their filly. So they’ll race her in both Experimentals and a few other races as well. If they find that there are a couple of colts around that she just can’t beat they’ll save her for the Kentucky Oaks and other filly races, and skip the Derby.”
Alec nodded. “I see what you mean,” he said. “And today she sets out by meeting Eclipse and Wintertime.”
“Yeah.” Henry left the filly’s stall after glancing at his watch. “It’s not long before post time. Let’s get to the television set.”
They started down the corridor but didn’t get very far before Jinx, one of the broodmare men, appeared in the doorway. He called to them, “That young mare is foaling, and it looks like she might need some help!”
They broke into a run, Alec saying, “You go watch the race, Henry. I’ll stay with the mare.”
“Not on your life,” Henry said. “It’s her first foal. The race can wait.”
It took thirty minutes for the young mare to foal and become acquainted with her first son. They stayed close to her, making certain she realized what had happened and that this foal was hers. Finally she accepted the colt and the danger of her injuring him was over. She was an outside mare and the sire of the colt was a Kentucky stallion, but Alec and Henry treated mare and foal as they would their own. When they left the stall, Jinx was instructed to stay there a little longer.
They reached the television set only in time to catch the acclaim that was being given to the winner of the Experimental Handicap. A tall rangy filly stood in the winner’s circle with flowers about her neck. It was Lady Lee!
The announcer stood beside her, talking to a small man whose round face was beaming.
“Sure, it’s wonderful!” he told the announcer. “I never thought I’d own a horse like her. Not one that could beat Eclipse by three lengths and Wintertime by four. No, sir, I never did!”
Alec glanced at Henry. Lady Lee had beaten Eclipse soundly, and Wintertime had been still another length behind! He turned back to the screen.
Lady Lee’s owner was saying, his face shining more than ever, “Oh, I’m just a little guy in racing. The Kentucky Derby? Well, I can hope, can’t I?” He laughed. “I’m still too nervous over winning this race. Why, she was in front all the way! Did you see her? They never got close!”
At the close of the interview Alec turned off the set. “She must be a lot better filly than I’d thought.”
Henry grunted. He had been so certain Eclipse would win.
Alec continued, “You said last winter you liked her chances in the Derby.”
“I was only guessing,” Henry replied. “But from today’s race it looks like maybe I was right. We’ll know more when she goes a mile and a sixteenth against Eclipse. If she should trim him over that distance, well …”
“Things are getting hot,” Alec said as they left the attic.
On Saturday, April 14, Alec and Henry were back at the television set, awaiting the running of Experimental Handicap Number Two. This should be a race to remember, and one with a direct bearing on the coming Derby. Anxiously and with little conversation between them, they whiled away the minutes before the horses appeared on the screen.
The horses were on their way to the post. There were seven in the parade, but Alec and Henry had eyes for only three of them. The announcer, too, realized that this race would be strictly a three-horse battle among Lady Lee, Eclipse and Wintertime. He therefore was giving his time and attention to them.
Lady Lee dominated the screen as he spoke of her achievements. She was very tall for a filly, almost sixteen hands, and light for her height. Rangy was the word for Lady Lee, for her long, thin legs carried a long, thin body. She was light brown and her head was as angular as the rest of her. Now, as she moved into a slow gallop, Alec and Henry noted the smooth strides which were in sharp contrast to her ungainliness at a walk.
The announcer was saying, “Lady Lee rocketed into the Kentucky Derby picture last week when she stunned a crowd of more than forty thousand people here with a walloping three-length victory over the favorite, Eclipse, who was and still is, despite the upset, one of the top favorites to win the Kentucky Derby early next month. However, if he loses again today to Lady Lee it will be another story.
“The overwhelmed crowd of last week is back today. They’re asking themselves, ‘Is Lady Lee going to be another Regret?’ Regret, ladies and gentlemen, was the only filly ever to win the Kentucky Derby. Today’s race then will give us an inkling as to Lady Lee’s prospects in the May classic.
“But regardless of her fate, Mr. Robert Smith, owner of Lady Lee, is mighty well pleased with his filly, whom he bought as a yearling for a mere seven hundred dollars. He could not have found a finer investment for his money, and today there’s about twenty-five thousand dollars more waiting for her at the finish. A few moments ago in the paddock I asked Mr. Smith what he thought of his filly’s chances in today’s race. He told me modestly, ‘We know she has the speed, but will she go the mile-and-a-sixteenth distance today in the face of such competition as she’ll get from Eclipse and Wintertime?’ ”
The picture shifted to a husky, powerfully muscled colt, his towering height well in proportion to his great body.
Alec heard Henry say, “That’s him!” And the way he said it could mean but one horse, Eclipse.
Yes, Alec admitted to himself, this colt looked the way a Derby winner should look. He had the body and size to carry him a mile and a quarter or farther. And that he had speed had already been proved in his two-year-old victories over shorter distances. Alec’s eyes remained focused on Eclipse, and presently he became aware of the similarity between this colt and Satan. Each had the same short thick neck and heavy head, the same muscular body which made every movement at a walk seem so ponderous.
Eclipse’s coat was dark brown, so dark it was almost black. Yet in startling contrast he had lots of white on him, with a wide blaze running from forehead to nostrils and long white stockings on all four legs.
Alec listened to the announcer telling of Eclipse’s great races as a two-year-old and the high hopes his stable had for him this year. The announcer concluded with, “Back in the paddock Eclipse walked around the place as though he owned it. He showed not one bit of nervousness. His only outward sign of anxiousness was a kick or two while being saddled.”
Alec watched the husky colt. Eclipse wasn’t showing any sign of nervousness now, either. And he walked as though he owned the track. Well, they’d soon know.
The picture swept down the line of horses, came to a stop, and centered on a close-up of another colt. Wintertime! He was a blood bay, solidly built but not too big. He wore a red blinker hood, and Alec noticed that the cup over the right eye was almost completely closed. He turned questioningly to Henry.
The trainer said, “Last year Wintertime had a tendency to run out, sometimes swerving abruptly, almost hurting himself and others. They’re trying to correct that with one-eyed blinkers this year, and it seems to be working.”
The announcer, too, was telling of the colt’s tendency to swerve during the running of a race.
“Wintertime ran straight in last week’s race, so maybe his trainer, Don Conover, has licked the colt’s bad habit of last year. Don tells me that in addition to the one-eyed blinker hood, he also has a run-out bit on the colt. This bit, ladies and gentlemen, is so designed that when the colt is running straight he has only a smooth plate against the right side of his mouth, but if he pushes out there are sharp prongs that are brought into play which stick him. It sounds cumbersome but it isn’t. And if the bit keeps Wintertime in line he should be a colt to reckon with in this race and in those to come.
“Wintertime is strong and game, as he proved in many of his fine races as a two-year-old. Looking at him now you might think he is a small horse, but he isn’t. He stands a little over fifteen hands.”
Alec turned again to Henry. “He looks like our filly,” he said.
“Except for the tail,” Henry replied, smiling. “You never saw a prettier tail than he’s got.”
Alec resumed watching the screen. Wintertime’s tail almost touched the ground, and as the colt went into a gallop, the tail flowed like a cloak behind him. The television cameras stayed on him.
“That’s Billy Watts up on Wintertime,” the announcer was saying. “He’s seventeen years old and one of the most promising young riders in the business. He’s been with trainer Don Conover for over three years now and has measured up to all the flattering things said and written about him. It’s a great tribute to his ability that a trainer like Don Conover has put the youngster up on his stable’s top candidate for the Kentucky Derby.”
A few minutes later the horses were in the stalls of the starting gate. Alec’s eyes were now on the jockeys, whom he could see behind the wire-mesh doors. He watched Steve Martin trying to soothe Lady Lee as she began acting up. Martin was an old hand. He’d been riding before Alec was born. He was a good rider, competent without being spectacular. He’d get the most out of the filly because he knew everything there was to know about his mounts.
In the number 4 stall, Ted Robinson sat quietly astride Eclipse. Neither he nor the great dark colt with the broad white blaze seemed to be anxious or ready to go. Robinson, still in his early twenties, was one of the great riders of all time, and had been for the past five years. Only the capable Dan Seymour, who had ridden Silver Jet to victory in the Flamingo, was as sought after for his riding services. Consequently Robinson, like Seymour, had his choice of the finest horses in any race. He was a hand-rider, yet polished, too, in the art of knowing when and how to use his whip. To Alec, Eclipse and Ted Robinson were as formidable a combination as Silver Jet and Dan Seymour. Could he and Black Minx compete with them?
But he was getting ahead of himself. There’d be time enough to think about the Derby. He focused his eyes on the outside stall, where Billy Watts sat astride Wintertime. The kid was almost lost behind the colt’s red-hooded head. Yet Alec was able to see the paleness of the boy’s thin face. He knew how Billy felt, up on a Derby colt, with so much to be gained or lost in this race and the big one to come. The kid was scared but obviously capable in the gate, for he was having no trouble with the colt.
The bell sounded and the gate doors flew open. There was a mad rush of horseflesh and pounding hoofs coming toward the cameras. Heads were pushed out and straining. Above all came the shrill cries of the riders. Alec could only make out Eclipse’s white blaze in that great surge.
Then the picture shifted quickly to give a side view of the racing field. Lady Lee was in front by a head, her long legs sweeping the track as her veteran rider, Steve Martin, used his whip in an effort to get clear of the inside horses and move to the rail. Before the first turn he had her out in front by a length. Then he moved over to the rail.
Behind Lady Lee came Eclipse, and Alec saw that there was nothing ponderous about him now, no more so than with Satan when he was in full stride. Ted Robinson, too, was using his whip. But he could not get Eclipse clear of the field and had to take the colt wide as he went around the turn. Alec’s eyes left him for the red-hooded Wintertime, who was being bumped by another colt. Alec saw him falter, then pick up stride again. Billy Watts brought him outside and took the turn wide. Alec realized the kid had chosen to waste precious ground rather than chance being bottled up on the rail by older and trickier riders.
Alec watched the leader. Going into the backstretch, Lady Lee had opened two lengths between herself and Eclipse. She was moving easily and under no urging by her rider. Eclipse, too, had settled down and Robinson wasn’t asking him for anything more just now. Wintertime came off the turn ahead of the remaining horses, but he was four lengths behind Eclipse and six behind Lady Lee.
“There it is,” Alec told Henry. “Our three-horse race!”
Henry only grunted. He was waiting, watching for the move he expected Eclipse to make in the backstretch.
With a half-mile still to go there was a sudden shout from the stands. Alec’s eyes swept from Lady Lee to Eclipse. There was no change, neither was being hustled. But four lengths behind, Billy Watts was urging Wintertime, and the blood bay colt was responding! He stepped up his strides, his long black tail trailing in the rush of wind he was creating.
Alec stood up in his excitement. “Come on!” he yelled. But before the words had left his mouth he saw that it would be a hopeless chase, for Lady Lee and Eclipse had begun moving faster too! Steve Martin was using his heels on the brown filly. Ted Robinson used his whip just once on Eclipse, and then urged the great colt on with hands alone.
The crowd shouted again. The race now was entering its final stage. The horses would extend themselves until they went under the wire. A quarter of a mile still remained.
Wintertime had managed to get two lengths nearer Eclipse by his early bid. But there he stayed, unable to move any closer to the husky brown colt. Lady Lee kept her two-length lead over Eclipse while rounding the back turn and entering the homestretch. Once again, Steve Martin asked his filly for more speed, using his hands and feet and whip. She responded quickly, courageously, her long, thin body stretching out to still greater length.
The screams of the crowd rose to a tumultuous roar, claiming the track and every room in the land where a television set was tuned in to this race. Here in the last furlong of the race was the filly’s answer to those who had asked, “We know she’s fast but will she go on?”
But even as the crowd roared their acclaim at her burst of speed in the stretch, there was movement behind. Eclipse and Wintertime were coming up on her! The shouts became more deafening. Seldom did race fans have the privilege of witnessing such a finish!
Alec and Henry were on their feet, their fists clenched and moving, their voices raised. r />
Wintertime was still two lengths behind Eclipse but moving with him, stride for stride, neither gaining nor losing ground. Together they narrowed the gap between them and the hard-running Lady Lee until Eclipse had his nose at the filly’s saddle, then at her head, then out front and under the finish wire!
Alec and Henry sat back in their chairs while Henry’s old friend “Red” Dawson, trainer of Eclipse, was being interviewed.
“He’s as good a three-year-old as I’ve ever seen,” the bald ex-jockey said. “Sure we’ll get some stiff competition from Silver Jet, Golden Vanity and maybe a few others, but if my colt can carry his speed a mile and a quarter—and I don’t see why he can’t—they’ll have to break records to beat him in the Derby.”
Henry wasn’t interested in listening to anything his old pal had to say about Eclipse. He had just seen a great filly outrun but not outgamed.
THE GATE
13
During the following week there was no doubt that the Kentucky Derby was close at hand. One couldn’t read the newspapers or magazines without being told in glowing terms of “America’s greatest sports event in which the noble Kings and Queens of the Turf will race for fame and fortune. Out of this whirlwind mass of thunder and speed will emerge one thoroughbred whose name will be added to the long list of Derby champions which includes the great names of American racing—Exterminator, Zev, Reigh Count, Gallant Fox, Twenty Grand, Cavalcade, Omaha, War Admiral, Whirlaway, Shut Out, Count Fleet, Citation and Assault, to mention only a few.”
But Alec didn’t need to be reminded that the Derby was less than three weeks away, for Henry began ordering longer and faster works for Black Minx.
“Show me you’re a Derby horse and you’ll go—only then will you go!” became Henry’s attitude. Not that he said it in so many words. But Alec knew that was what he meant. They had been friends too long for Alec not to know.
There were other things too that gave evidence of how close they were to the Derby. No longer did Henry display the slightest optimism concerning the filly’s chances in the approaching classic. And Henry was a man of three distinct moods when it came to training.