Read Online The Black Stallion's Courage by Walter Farley - Free Book Online Page B

that. Rather, he seemed to know how to relax completely, to bide his time until the very second the gate doorsopened and the race was on. Now, standing quietly in his stall, his head with the white blaze seemed actually to droop. Unlike most of the others, including Black Minx, there wasn’t a spot of perspiration on his big body.
    The crewman suddenly had Black Minx going forward and she didn’t fight him. Into the number 5 stall she went, standing still while the crewman climbed noisily about the framework of the gate. It was as if she knew the time had come for all foolishness to end.
    â€œOther side, Smith, please,” Alec said quietly. “She handles from the off side.”
    â€œYeah, I know,” the man said, moving over.
    Alec looked to his left and found Ted Robinson surveying him from atop Eclipse. “You seem to have grown,” Alec said lightly.
    â€œFunny, but he does seem to get bigger every time I ride him,” Robinson answered, smiling.
    â€œToday we cut him down to size.”
    â€œNo, Alec,” Robinson said with abrupt soberness. “I’ve been up on a lot of them. This one is the best. He’s the best there ever was.”
    The doors slammed shut in the next stall, frightening Black Minx. She tried to rear but Alec kept her down. He didn’t turn again to Ted Robinson. He knew that while Robinson wasn’t any older than he, Ted had more years of riding behind him. If Robinson, too, hailed Eclipse as a true wonder horse, it was going to be a tough job beating him.
    The crewmen had Olympus in the stall to Alec’s right now, number 6. The last two horses, Lone Hope and Rampart, weren’t giving their handlers any trouble. They were going inside.
    Alec talked to his filly. Any second now and they’d be off. He felt her reach for the bit. He kept it from her but let her play with it so she’d have something to do.
    Far down the homestretch and on top of the ancient cupola of the clubhouse he noticed that the horse-and-jockey weather vane had turned to the west, promising good weather for the rest of the afternoon. The next day, he knew, the jockey’s colors would be repainted to match those of today’s Preakness winner. Would they be the black-and-white of Hopeful Farm? Or Eclipse’s maroon-and-white? Or Silver Jet’s black-and-crimson? Or Wintertime’s …
    Alec heard the last stall door slam shut and focused his eyes on the stretch of lonely road directly before him.
    It was a muddy, sloppy track. Black Minx would take kindly to it but she wouldn’t relish it. Too bad Pimlico didn’t work more sand into the loam so that horses would find the going secure even when the strip was drenched. That’s the way it was at Belmont.
    Golden Vanity reared high in his stall and Nino Nella, his jockey, called to the starter, “No chance! No chance, sir!”
    â€œDon’t worry,” the starter answered. “We’ll wait. We’ve got lots of time. Don’t get your horse and the others all excited now, Nella. Nice and easy does it. Plenty of time. Don’t worry.”
    Olympus, on one side of Alec, threw himself against the padded sides. Eclipse, on the other side, raised his head and waited patiently. Black Minx fidgeted.
    Alec noted that the track was now completely inshadow from the stands. It was getting late. They should have been off minutes ago. Rampart snorted and backed out of his stall to complicate matters still more for the starter. The filly shook her head.
    â€œEasy, Baby,” Alec said. “Just a few seconds now.”
    The spectators on either side of the track were very quiet. Some of those in the center field had climbed atop the steeplechase barriers to get a better view. The water jump in front of the grandstand was full and overflowing. Alec remembered other days when it had been so hot that there’d been no water at all. But not today, no sir.
    The track had been