The Black Stallion's Courage

  “Billy’s opening up,” a valet said. “He’s not goin’ to sit behind any horses today.”

  “Neither is Ted!” someone shouted from in back of the room.

  It was true. Eclipse was moving up alongside Wintertime.

  “ ’Tis no head start Pops will be givin’ the others today!” Mike Costello exclaimed.

  Black Minx picked up stride when Wintertime suddenly appeared on her left. She leveled out faster going past the stands, and the crowd roared. Wintertime couldn’t pull away from her and Eclipse was staying just behind them!

  “She’ll last. She’s got speed and class, that Baby. Come on, Baby!” a jockey said.

  “They’ll stagger in, both of ’em,” another remarked.

  “Then so will Pops,” someone added. “He ain’t droppin’ back like he usually does. He’s goin’ with them!”

  Silver Jet and Golden Vanity were three lengths behind, their jockeys a little worried about the others but content to wait until they were on the backstretch before making their moves.

  They swept into the first big bend with Billy Watts still pumping Wintertime. But the blood bay colt couldn’t pull away from the black filly at his side. Alec Ramsay sat quietly in the saddle, apparently not yet ready to ask more of his mount.

  Ted Robinson sat just as still as Alec, and Eclipse wasn’t losing any ground to the speedy front runners. The brown colt’s strides seemed to be twice the length of the leaders’ and suddenly his big body blocked out the screen’s view of them.

  “That’s all there is to this race!” a valet shouted.

  The picture shifted and they could see the horses sweeping around the long turn with no change in positions. Going down the backstretch Silver Jet and Golden Vanity made their moves but they couldn’t quite catch the three leaders. Their jockeys took up on them again, apparently deciding to wait until the run for home before trying once more.

  “It’s smart to wait,” someone in the room said. “You’d think Alec would take back too. He’s smart enough to know he and Billy are killing each other off.”

  “What about Pops? He’s still there, ain’t he? Ain’t you worried about him killin’ himself off?”

  “Pops is running well within himself,” came the answer.

  “No he’s not,” another argued. “Look at Ted. His hands are down. He’s asking for speed.”

  “If he’s asking and that’s all he’s getting, Pops isn’t the horse he’s cracked up to be,” someone shouted. There was a nodding of heads in complete agreement.

  All eyes were now on Eclipse as the field neared the far turn. Here would come the test of greatness. There was still a half-mile to go. Would Eclipse stagger home, fighting off the others to the finish, or would he win like the champion he was supposed to be? Was it to be a finish between Wintertime and Black Minx with Eclipse out of it? Or would the trailing Golden Vanity and Silver Jet come up with conserved stamina to win?

  They were past the sweeping turn and on the straightaway when suddenly, to the loud shouts of the viewers, Eclipse came around the two leaders in mighty leaps! Ted Robinson tapped him once with his whip and the big colt started drawing away as if the others were standing still. The viewers saw Alec Ramsay lower his hands, urging his filly to accept Eclipse’s challenge. But Black Minx wouldn’t budge for him. She stayed with Wintertime, stride for stride.

  Billy Watts had given Wintertime a breather but now he went at him again, using hands, whip and feet in a final effort to catch Eclipse. His urging was futile, for the long-striding leader pulled ever farther away. Soon all that appeared on the television screen was a big brown colt running all by himself down the long homestretch. Twice Robinson looked back and finally he stopped asking Eclipse for any more speed. He was sitting quietly in his saddle when his mount swept under the wire.

  “Now let’s get back to the race,” a jockey said mockingly as the cameras swept over the distance between the winner and the rest of the field.

  The picture showed the oncoming horses. Golden Vanity was in front with Silver Jet a length behind him. Far to the rear were Wintertime and Black Minx.

  “Looks like Billy’s pullin’ up!” someone said excitedly. “Red’s hurt. The left fore. He’s limping. See? He wants to come on but Billy won’t let him. He’s stoppin’ him.”

  “Yeah,” another agreed, “but why don’t Baby come on? What’s wrong with her anyway? She’s not hurt but she ain’t comin’ on!”

  Not until Wintertime came to a dead stop was Alec Ramsay able to get Black Minx past the colt. The viewers watched while she finished the race at a slow gallop, shaking her head all the way.

  “She’s just a sprinter,” a valet said disappointedly, “and all the time I thought she had class.”

  “ ’Tis not the truth ye speak,” Mike Costello said quietly. “Ye don’t win the Kentucky Derby on speed alone. No, me boy, there’s something else that’s a-troublin’ her.”

  The Parkslope Stables’ barn was very quiet after the running of the Belmont Stakes. Jean Parshall, Wintertime’s owner, was in the colt’s stall. So was Don Conover, his trainer, and Billy Watts, his jockey, and old Ray Jenkins, his groom. With them was their veterinarian.

  Alec and Henry watched, along with others, from outside the stall, their eyes as concerned as everyone else’s.

  “You got someone walkin’ the filly?” Henry whispered to Alec.

  Alec nodded. “Mike Costello came around and offered to help.”

  The blanketed colt stood quietly in his stall. Mingled with his sweat was the sharp odor of medication. His left foreleg had already filled and was hot to the touch. He held his hoof off the straw bedding.

  They all knew that the tendons between the knee and ankle joint had been severely strained. Bowed tendons weren’t uncommon in horses working at high speed. A slip or a blow could do it. The injured horse rarely was able to equal his best previous efforts. Whether or not he ever raced at all depended upon how severely the tendon tissue had been ruptured.

  “How bad is it, Doctor?” Jean Parshall asked gravely.

  The veterinarian shook his head. “You’d better not figure on racing him again, Miss Parshall.”

  The young woman turned and left the stall.

  “Don’t take it so hard, Jean,” Henry said kindly when she came up to him. “He’s done more than most horses do in a whole lifetime.”

  “I know, Henry,” she said without looking at the trainer. “It’s just that … well, he was such a game little horse. He never quit trying, even against the big ones when everyone knew darn well he was beaten. He was going after Eclipse when it happened. I saw him slip coming off the turn.”

  Don Conover came out of the stall and stood with them. “He’ll make a good stallion for some farm, Jean,” he said quietly. “Look at it that way. It’s the horse business. We’ll get a good price for him and—”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care about the money,” she interrupted. “I want a good home for him. It’s the only time I’ve ever regretted not having a stock farm.”

  Henry said, “Would you let him go for twenty thousand dollars, Jean?”

  Alec turned quickly to his friend. They didn’t need another stallion and twenty thousand was just about all they’d made toward the new barn! Getting the filly to finish the Belmont had earned them fourth place and a purse of $5,000.

  “I know you could get more,” Henry added, “but you said you wanted a good home for him. That’s all we can afford to pay.”

  Alec watched Jean Parshall turn to her trainer and then saw them both nod their heads in assent. Alec’s gaze shifted to the ring where Black Minx was being walked by Mike Costello. He realized then that she, too, was going home. Her racing days, like Wintertime’s, were over. Henry had made all the arrangements.

  Later the trainer said, “I guess I’m an old fool, Alec, but we’ll send them back together. That’s the way she’s wanted it all along.”

  “You don’t sound so old, Henry,” Alec answe
red quietly.

  AND MORE SPEED!

  14

  Only the afternoons were different during the days that followed. The spring meeting at Belmont Park closed with the running of the Belmont Stakes and then came the opening of nearby Aqueduct Race Course. The great stands at Belmont were empty and silent but the stable area remained unchanged, for most of the horses stayed at Belmont and went to Aqueduct only to race.

  Alec watched a long horse van being loaded one afternoon. “Couldn’t Aqueduct run its programs on its own stabling area?” he asked Henry.

  “It’s not so big,” the trainer said. “They’d find it pretty difficult, I guess. Anyway, what’s a half-hour ride when we’re comfortably settled here?”

  Alec left his seat on the barn bench to go to the paddock where Peek-a-Boo grazed beneath a shade tree. Yes, it was easy to remain at Belmont Park and be content. He ran a hand under the Shetland pony’s heavy forelock, trying to comfort her in Wintertime’s absence. The blood bay colt had been sent to the farm with Black Minx that morning.

  Henry joined Alec at the fence. “To look at you you’d think Black Minx had it real tough bein’ sent home,” the trainer said.

  Alec smiled. “I don’t mean to look that way. I guess I just feel awfully disappointed in her.”

  “She got beat by Eclipse,” Henry said quietly. “That’s the best excuse a horse could have.”

  “She had the speed to go after him,” Alec answered. “She was going nice and easy coming off the turn, then Wintertime slipped and that was when he bowed the tendon. When Billy began pulling him up she went all to pieces. I had an awful time getting her to finish the race.”

  “She’s a top filly,” Henry said, “but she’s no Black. She’s got her mind on other things besides racing. Horses got to feel like racing to race well. They’ve got to be happy at it. If they’re unhappy and you can’t help them, you’d better just forget them for a while.”

  “She felt like running in the Derby,” Alec reminded him.

  Henry nodded. “That was her race, Alec. She wanted to run that day and she was the best three-year-old in training at the time.”

  “But you don’t think she could have caught Eclipse on Saturday even if she’d been at her very best?”

  “No, I don’t,” Henry said. “As far as Eclipse is concerned Black Minx had better stick with the fillies. He’s a great horse, Alec. Mark my words. Someday soon I want you to stand off where you can see him race. You’ve been ridin’ behind him too much. You’ve lost your perspective.”

  Alec grinned. “I’ve got to admit that I haven’t seen much beside his hindquarters—and they’re pretty powerful ones at that.”

  “Eclipse really turned on the speed in the Belmont,” Henry said. “He really did. He stayed with you and Billy Watts when you were sprintin’ your fool heads off, and then he smothered you with a still faster burst of speed comin’ around the bend, and he stayed. I wish you could have seen it. I wish you could.”

  “I was busy,” Alec said.

  “He moved so easily and swiftly that it was hard to believe even when you did see it,” Henry went on. “Yep, he sure made an army of new fans Saturday. They saw a race to tell their kiddies about when they got home.”

  Alec said, “It was an easy way to pick up eighty-two thousand dollars, all right. In fact, we didn’t have to work awfully hard for our five.”

  “No, we didn’t,” Henry agreed, “seein’ we only had an injured horse to beat.”

  Henry turned away from the fence and Alec followed him.

  “I guess you’re still sore at me for buyin’ Red,” the trainer said.

  “I wasn’t sore before so why should I be sore now?” Alec asked. “You handle our money, so if that’s what you thought best to do with it, why—”

  “Aw, Alec, you know I feel the new barn’s more important than another colt. It was just … well, you know how it is … anyway, if I had to do it over again I wouldn’t do it.”

  Alec put his hand on the old man’s arm. “Sure you would, Henry. You know darn well you would.”

  They walked the rest of the way to the barn in silence. As they reached the door Henry said, “Well, it just takes one big purse to build it, anyway.”

  “I’m not worrying about the new barn,” Alec answered confidently. “The Black is sharp and full of run. He’ll make the money for us in a couple of jumps.”

  “It won’t be quite that easy,” Henry cautioned. “Remember he’s goin’ to have to cope with Casey and a lot of weight on his back.”

  Alec grinned. “Then it’ll take us a little longer. A few more jumps, a few more races.”

  Henry nodded his big head. “I guess so. I can’t see us not makin’ enough money to pay for the new barn, not these days with the purses so high. Just as long as he stays sound—”

  “Don’t even think he won’t,” Alec interrupted gravely.

  “I’m not thinkin’ it. I just happened to say it.”

  “Don’t even say it,” Alec begged him. “We’re down to a one-horse stable—a big horse, but still just one horse. If anything happens to him we can’t go anywhere but home.”

  The next morning Alec, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, rode the Black onto Belmont’s training track. Its surface of sandy loam was more like that of the Aqueduct strip than the main track. The sun wasn’t up yet and the air felt cool on Alec’s bare arms. It was exhilarating to be out so early and he was as eager to run as the big horse beneath him. Holding the Black would be a difficult job this morning.

  Henry rode Napoleon beside them. “Don Conover wants us to push that bay gelding of his,” the trainer said. He wasn’t looking at Alec but at the Black’s hoofs. “I thought he missed a step back there,” he added nervously.

  “Stop worrying,” Alec said. “There’s nothing wrong with him. I’d feel him give way if there was.” He noticed the winter jacket Henry wore and the rubbers on his feet even though the ground was dry. Henry was being very careful of himself these days, almost too careful. “How far does Don want us to go with him?” Alec asked.

  “Six furlongs,” the trainer answered, his eyes still following the Black’s strides. “But maybe we shouldn’t, Alec. He just might have taken a misstep back there. We can’t be too careful. You know as well as I do what the stakes are.”

  The stallion almost jumped from under Alec before he had a chance to answer Henry. He waited until he had him back in a walk again before saying, “If we can’t work him, we can’t race him.”

  The trainer nodded thoughtfully. “Will you be able to hold him back?” he finally asked. “Don thinks his horse would like to feel he’s winning. He’s raced second to Casey the last three times out.”

  “I’ll hold him,” Alec promised.

  “Go around once with me,” Henry ordered, pulling the shank between them.

  The Black bowed his neck against Alec’s snug hold but he didn’t shake his head or try to break away. He loped along easily beside old Napoleon.

  Henry watched him all the way around. There was no evidence of a misstep in the Black’s strides. “I guess I was wrong,” he told Alec. “But you got me worryin’ so, talkin’ like you did about us bein’ down to a one-horse stable.”

  “I’m sorry I ever mentioned it. Anyway, he’s as sound as they come so you don’t have to worry.”

  “Oh, I’ll worry all right,” Henry answered quietly. “I always worry.”

  Don Conover was waiting for them with Gunfire, a bay gelding. Alec knew him to be a fast handicap horse who’d won a great deal of money for the Parkslope Stables. When this horse was good he was very good indeed and it took Casey to beat him.

  Don Conover said, “I appreciate this, Henry. He needs to be pushed hard and I don’t have anything in the stable to push him with.” His gaze shifted to Alec. “But I don’t want you to catch him. I think if he gets his head in front and finds he can keep it there it’ll mean a big difference in his next race.”

  Alec nodded. “Sure, Don
,” he said. “We’ll keep close but behind.”

  The young trainer’s eyes turned to the Black. “I hate to make a workhorse of him.”

  “Stop talkin’ and let’s go!” Henry said impatiently. “I haven’t had coffee yet.”

  The exercise boy riding Gunfire took him into the first turn at a gallop. Alec waited until the gelding was some ten lengths beyond and then sent the Black after him.

  For the moment the track was clear except for the two working horses. The Black’s eyes and ears followed the horse ahead of him as he bent into the turn. Alec kept him at a gallop. Both horses were to break into a run at the six-furlong pole, which was just off the first turn going into the backstretch.

  “Easy, Black,” Alec said. “Easy.” He was standing in his stirrups, doing his best not to close the gap too fast between the two horses.

  At the six-furlong pole the gelding broke into a hard run and the Black, too, leaped forward, taking hold of the bit. Alec sat back in his saddle, the wind whistling in his ears. As both horses began settling into their strides, the long back-stretch lay before them.

  Alec took the bit from the Black and kept him under a snug hold. Gunfire was using his top speed early and was holding on to his long lead. Alec let out a wrap of the reins. Don wanted his horse pushed and they weren’t pushing by staying so far behind.

  The Black’s speed came with a burst as if all his pent-up energy had been released at once. Swiftly the gap between the two horses closed and as they swept into the far turn Alec took up on the Black again. For a few strides the stallion shook his head in his eagerness to go on. Alec took up another wrap of the reins and the Black slowed obediently.

  The gelding was leveled out two lengths beyond. His long ears were flicked backward as though he’d actually been listening to the Black coming up on him. His strides came faster as he pounded into the homestretch. He began pulling away.

  When Gunfire was good he was awfully good, Alec reminded himself, and he was good today!

  Alec felt the Black reach for the bit again as he sent him after Gunfire. He kept it from him but the stallion surged forward with mighty leaps. The gelding took up the challenge and fought him off furiously.