Black Stallion and Satan by Walter Farley Read Free Book Online Page A

third, followed by …”
    When the commentator had finished, Alec switched off the radio, turning again to the window. His eyes were bright as he said aloud, “One minute fifty-eight seconds for the mile and a quarter!” He shook his head in amazement. Never had he dreamed any horse, even the Black, was capable of running so fast!
    In the field, the Black left his grazing to move quickly toward the barn. Alec watched his long, effortless strides. “I wonder,” he thought aloud, “if Satan could beat him, too?” He paused, his gaze following the stallion until he came to a stop at the barn fence. “No,” Alec said finally. “Satan couldn’t do it. No horse could.”
    With his head craned high over the fence, the Black whistled. His call was echoed by a shrill neighfrom the street, and Alec saw Napoleon coming along at a shuffling trot. Tony sat high in the wagon seat, the long reins held lightly in his big hands.
    Alec called to him, and Tony waved back. The boy went downstairs and outside, where he ran across the street to open the iron gate for Tony.
    The huckster’s black eyes were bright as he said, “See, Aleec, I no need to cluck to my Nappy when he sees the Black; then he just go like the wind all by himself!”
    Napoleon went up the driveway, Alec running beside the wagon, which was now empty of its daily cargo of fresh fruits and vegetables. Tony was the last of his kind in Flushing.
    “Satan just won that Chicago race, Tony!” Alec shouted. “And he set a new world record!”
    Nodding his heavy head, Tony said, “So I am not one bit surprised, Aleec. I expect him to win all the time.”
    When they reached the barn, Tony left his seat to unharness Napoleon while Alec went for a pail of water. The old gray moved about impatiently, and Tony said, “You stand-a still, Napoleon. You think you’re one young colt again!”
    Alec returned, lifting the water pail to Napoleon’s muzzle. “But Satan beat older horses today, Tony … and they were the very best in the country!”
    Shrugging his shoulders, Tony said, “Satan, he’s-a young horse and very strong. So why should he not beat older horses, Aleec? It’s-a youth that makes him win.” Tony’s hand swept down Napoleon’s neck as he added, “You take Nappy, for example. When he was-ayoung, he like to run all the time. But now maybe just once in a long time he feel like it. Or you take the Black.” They turned to the stallion, who was moving uneasily up and down alongside the fence. “He no have the speed he had few years ago, I bet. Satan could beat him now, too.”
    “I don’t think so,” Alec replied quickly. “The Black is still young, Tony. He’s as fast as he ever was, and maybe even faster.”
    “So you think, Aleec. But I no think so. It’s being young that gives the speed.” Tony turned from the Black and, slipping the halter on Napoleon, said, “Now I put him in the field.”
    Alec went to the field gate and slipped through the rails. Coming to him, the Black nuzzled his shirt and Alec pressed his head close to the stallion. “Imagine anyone thinking you’re an old man at seven,” he said softly. “There’s no horse in the world who could keep up with you … even Satan. He did a mile and a quarter in one fifty-eight today, Black. But you could run faster than that, couldn’t you?”
    The stallion’s head turned to Napoleon as Tony led the gray gelding toward the gate. Giving the Black a carrot, Alec took him a short distance down the field and held him until Tony had Napoleon in the field.
    The old gray didn’t go to the Black but moved past him, going down the field at a slow gallop. For a moment the stallion watched Napoleon; then suddenly he snorted and bolted after the gray.
    Alec helped Tony close the gate before turning once again to the horses. The Black was playfully circling Napoleon as the gray continued his slow gallop.But finally Napoleon came to a stop and lowered his head to graze. The Black halted,