Read Online Son of the Black Stallion by Walter Farley - Free Book Online
Authors: Walter Farley
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days, Alec. Don’t suspect I’ll have any trouble with Boldt … not if I handle him right.”
“Hope not, Henry.”
“You’ll speak to your father?”
“Tonight or tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow would be better.”
Henry placed his hand on Alec’s arm. “Use your own judgment, Alec. It’s good, an’ you’re carrying the ball now.”
“Yes,” Alec said thoughtfully, his gaze on the house across the street, “it’s my ball, all right.”
Henry’s fingers pressed into Alec’s shoulder, and he mumbled something about seeing the missis; then he shuffled up the street toward the big house on the corner. Alec watched him for a moment, and then started across the street.
B ILL OF S ALE
5
Alec watched as his mother rose from her chair and began cleaning off the kitchen table. She had reached the head of the table and her hand was on his dad’s empty plate when, hesitating, she turned to Alec. “I believe I’ll leave his setting, and keep the food warm,” she said. “He may not have eaten.”
Alec smiled, trying to relieve the deep concern he saw in his mother’s eyes. “He’ll be along any minute now, Mom,” he said, getting to his feet. And as he helped her carry the dishes to the sink, he added, “He might have had trouble finding a veterinary in New York.”
His mother washed the dishes in silence while Alec stood beside her drying them. “Do you think Sebastian might have been seriously hurt?” she finally asked.
“I don’t think so, Mom. Henry said the colt’s hoof just nicked him.”
“You should have kept the colt away from him,” his mother said a little sternly as she dried her hands.
“Sebastian …” Then Alec stopped. His mother was worried enough now without his going into all the details of the accident. “Yes, Mom,” he said quietly. “I know I should have.”
The spring lock on the screen door on the porch clicked and then clicked again as the door shut. In another moment Mr. Ramsay was striding into the kitchen, his face white and tired. “Sorry I’m late, Belle,” he said, turning to his wife, “but it couldn’t be helped.” Then his gaze was upon Alec, and the boy felt uneasy until the sternness left his father’s eyes. “Seb will be all right in a couple of days, Alec,” he said slowly. “Doctor Hancock thinks he was just stunned by the blow, but he’s going to keep him around awhile to make sure.”
“Sit down, William, while the food is still warm,” Alec heard his mother say. “You must be hungry.”
Everything was all right now, Alec thought. Sebastian wasn’t hurt; his father was eating hungrily; and his mother was moving busily about the kitchen once more. She poured the coffee into her husband’s cup and said, “We thought you might have tried to find a veterinary in New York.” The tenseness was gone from her voice.
“Decided it would be better taking him to Hancock,” Alec heard his father say. “I figured it wouldn’t take any longer than looking for a vet in New York.”
Excusing himself, Alec left the kitchen, stopped momentarily in the living room, as though undecided where to go, then turned and walked up thestairs, his hand trailing along the well-polished mahogany banister.
He went to his bedroom, and for a moment stood at the window looking at the barn, a dim, uncertain shape in the darkness. It would turn out all right, he told himself again. Things which started out badly had a way of righting themselves. The colt would come around in time. He was certain of that.
He went over to the bed and stretched out upon it, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He lay there quietly for a few minutes; then his gaze descended to the walls and traveled about the room, dimly lit from the light in the hall. His eyes passed over the Flushing High School banners, stopped at the pictures of the Black, Henry and himself, then went on to the soiled green jockey cap hanging there. Henry’s cap, the same one the old man had worn long ago
“Hope not, Henry.”
“You’ll speak to your father?”
“Tonight or tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow would be better.”
Henry placed his hand on Alec’s arm. “Use your own judgment, Alec. It’s good, an’ you’re carrying the ball now.”
“Yes,” Alec said thoughtfully, his gaze on the house across the street, “it’s my ball, all right.”
Henry’s fingers pressed into Alec’s shoulder, and he mumbled something about seeing the missis; then he shuffled up the street toward the big house on the corner. Alec watched him for a moment, and then started across the street.
B ILL OF S ALE
5
Alec watched as his mother rose from her chair and began cleaning off the kitchen table. She had reached the head of the table and her hand was on his dad’s empty plate when, hesitating, she turned to Alec. “I believe I’ll leave his setting, and keep the food warm,” she said. “He may not have eaten.”
Alec smiled, trying to relieve the deep concern he saw in his mother’s eyes. “He’ll be along any minute now, Mom,” he said, getting to his feet. And as he helped her carry the dishes to the sink, he added, “He might have had trouble finding a veterinary in New York.”
His mother washed the dishes in silence while Alec stood beside her drying them. “Do you think Sebastian might have been seriously hurt?” she finally asked.
“I don’t think so, Mom. Henry said the colt’s hoof just nicked him.”
“You should have kept the colt away from him,” his mother said a little sternly as she dried her hands.
“Sebastian …” Then Alec stopped. His mother was worried enough now without his going into all the details of the accident. “Yes, Mom,” he said quietly. “I know I should have.”
The spring lock on the screen door on the porch clicked and then clicked again as the door shut. In another moment Mr. Ramsay was striding into the kitchen, his face white and tired. “Sorry I’m late, Belle,” he said, turning to his wife, “but it couldn’t be helped.” Then his gaze was upon Alec, and the boy felt uneasy until the sternness left his father’s eyes. “Seb will be all right in a couple of days, Alec,” he said slowly. “Doctor Hancock thinks he was just stunned by the blow, but he’s going to keep him around awhile to make sure.”
“Sit down, William, while the food is still warm,” Alec heard his mother say. “You must be hungry.”
Everything was all right now, Alec thought. Sebastian wasn’t hurt; his father was eating hungrily; and his mother was moving busily about the kitchen once more. She poured the coffee into her husband’s cup and said, “We thought you might have tried to find a veterinary in New York.” The tenseness was gone from her voice.
“Decided it would be better taking him to Hancock,” Alec heard his father say. “I figured it wouldn’t take any longer than looking for a vet in New York.”
Excusing himself, Alec left the kitchen, stopped momentarily in the living room, as though undecided where to go, then turned and walked up thestairs, his hand trailing along the well-polished mahogany banister.
He went to his bedroom, and for a moment stood at the window looking at the barn, a dim, uncertain shape in the darkness. It would turn out all right, he told himself again. Things which started out badly had a way of righting themselves. The colt would come around in time. He was certain of that.
He went over to the bed and stretched out upon it, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He lay there quietly for a few minutes; then his gaze descended to the walls and traveled about the room, dimly lit from the light in the hall. His eyes passed over the Flushing High School banners, stopped at the pictures of the Black, Henry and himself, then went on to the soiled green jockey cap hanging there. Henry’s cap, the same one the old man had worn long ago
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