Son of the Black Stallion Read Online Free Page B

know all about them.” Sebastian whimpered and Alec’s father removed one hand from the steering wheel to pat him. “Yes, Alec, you can make a nice little pal of him, just like Sebby.”
    Pony
 … nice
slow
rides through the park! Alec wondered what his father would have to say when he told him about Henry and his plans to train the black colt for the track.
    “Mind you, Alec,” his father was saying, “I’m not trying to run your life. You’re old enough now to know what you want, and to do your own thinking. I guess I don’t have to tell you that, for you must know that Mother and I are very proud of the way you’ve been able to handle yourself.”
    “Yes, Dad,” Alec replied quietly.
    His father smiled. “Not that I expect this pony to cause any trouble. Not after the way you could handle his sire.”
    Alec didn’t say anything, and they rode for a long time before his father asked, “You’re sure the van’s going to be at the pier, Alec? You wanted to make all the arrangements, you know.”
    “Yes, Dad. It’ll be there.”
    “How much is it costing you?”
    Reluctantly Alec replied, “Twenty-five …”
    “Hmmm. Rather steep, wasn’t it? Did it take all the money you’ve saved?”
    “No, I still have plenty left. Enough to buy feed and pay Mrs. Dailey.”
    “Mrs. Dailey?”
    Alec smiled. “Dad! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.… Henry’s wife … lives in the big house on the corner, and owns the barn and field.”
    “Oh, yes! I guess I’m getting old, Alec,” Mr. Ramsay said, laughing. “Come to think of it, your mother has been charging me with forgetfulness of late.” Aslight pause, and he added, “I shouldn’t have thought Mrs. Dailey would make you pay anything, though, what with Henry having that good job on the coast, and her taking in boarders.”
    “She didn’t want anything,” Alec confessed, “but I thought I’d feel better paying her a little.” He paused, then continued in a lower tone, “It would be different if Henry was around.”
    His father turned to him. “Did you write Henry that the pony was arriving?” he asked.
    “Yes. The day I got Abu’s letter.” Alec played with Sebastian’s long ears as the dog slept.
    “No reply?”
    Shaking his head, Alec said with attempted lightness, “I guess he must be pretty busy.” Then his gaze turned to the side window, and he watched the heavy New York traffic. It was strange that Henry hadn’t answered his letter, he thought. Strange, because the arrival of the colt was what they both had been eagerly awaiting … for this was to be the beginning of the long hard grind which they had planned and hoped would lead to the track. And even if Henry was terribly busy, he could have sent a note or telegram. Alec couldn’t believe that Henry had forgotten everything they had planned, even though he was working for Boldt and training some of the finest horses in the country.
    They were on the Drive running parallel to the East River, and Alec knew that in a few minutes they’d reach the pier.
    Sebastian awoke, raised his head, then left Alec’s lap. Mr. Ramsay pulled the dog close to him, and Sebastian settled down contentedly again.
    Sebastian really was Dad’s dog, all right, Alec thought, for it was he whom the puppy had followed home one evening. Smiling, Alec remembered the advertisements they had published in the “Lost and Found” column of the local daily paper, his father hoping all the time that no one would claim Sebastian. No one had, and now Sebastian was theirs for keeps.
    Slowing down the car, Mr. Ramsay said, “It should be right about here, Alec. Pier Number Six, wasn’t it?”
    Alec nodded as he watched the numbers on the outside of the long, dirty-white sheds which led back to the East River. Pier Nine … Eight … Seven … 
Six
. It was there, just ahead. The car rolled slowly to a stop as Mr. Ramsay pulled over to the curb. Alec had a tight, lumpy feeling in his stomach and