I Own the Racecourse! by Patricia Wrightson Read Free Book Online

curiosity about Andy’s doings.
    â€˜Hey, Mike! Did you hear, Joe? I own something, too! Not just kidding like you do, though.’ He chuckled knowingly. ‘You don’t really own all that stuff, I know. You never paid for any of it. What I own, I bought it.’
    â€˜All right,’ said Joe. ‘We heard you the first time. What do you own?’
    Andy screwed up his eyes and twisted his face cunningly.
    â€˜You needn’t tell us if you don’t want to,’ said Terry cruelly. ‘Nobody said you had to be friends.’
    â€˜I’m friends!’ cried Andy, deeply hurt…‘Gee, you know I’m best friends. I’m going to tell you, aren’t I? It’s just…’ His voice trailed off.
    â€˜Go on, Andy—good old Andy!’ cried Matt, almost bursting under the strain. ‘Spit it out, boy. Did you buy it with the three dollars?’
    Andy tried to tell them, but the words seemed to be too big for his tongue to manage. ‘I’ll show you,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll show you tonight.’
    â€˜I bet,’ said Mike, not believing him.
    â€˜You wait and you’ll see,’ Andy promised, hugging himself.
    He was very quiet for the rest of the afternoon, but now his friends saw that his quietness had a waiting, explosive quality like a bomb. Mike and Joe exchanged looks but said nothing. Matt was amused, and made teasing remarks about ‘the big secret’ until Terry told him briefly to stow it. There was a feeling of tension building up, and Joe’s long quiet face grew more and more serious. Whatever it was that gripped Andy so that everything else was shut out, he had been wrapped up in it for a whole week. What could he have bought for three dollars that could keep him in this state of round-eyed, hushed excitement? It was too much money for Andy, or it was not enough.
    â€˜He’s bought a dog,’ whispered Matt.
    Mike and Joe exchanged a thoughtful look. That was one thing Andy really might have done, about which he might be very excited.
    â€˜If he has, he’s been rooked,’ muttered Terry. ‘The sort of pup he could get for three dollars, he could’ve picked up for nothing.’
    Mike was shaking his head. ‘No. If it was a dog, he’d tell us.’
    Evening came, and pale lights swung between tree-tops in the park. The boys went home through streets that were roaring and humming with the sound of cars and where white-coated men had sprung up like a crop of Saturday-night mushrooms. Later, when the giant voice was speaking with calm authority into every ear in Appington Hill, Andy arrived in the O’Days’ back yard before it was half filled and drove everyone frantic with his impatience.
    â€˜They’re too slow tonight, aren’t they, Mike? You won’t wait for ’em if they don’t come soon, will you? Don’t you wish they’d hurry up, Terry? This is nearly enough now, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Stand in that corner,’ said Mike, exasperated, ‘and don’t move or talk .’
    At last the yard was filled. ‘Coming, Terry? You coming, Joe? Hey, Matt!’ For once, Andy’s friends followed him; and he swelled with pride and mystery as he led them, with many quiet chuckles, through the darkening streets. Halfway along the little passage he stopped suddenly, made shy by the very importance of his secret. ‘You’re my friends,’ he reminded them. ‘That’s why I’m showing you.’
    â€˜Get on with it, then,’ said Mike unsympathetically.
    They groped their way out to the cliff-top, and Andy felt the presence of shadowy forms on verandahs. ‘Sh-sh,’ he whispered mysteriously, and led the way down the rocks.
    None of the others had the least idea of what was coming. Then Andy said ‘There!’ and threw out a hand to the wide circle of brilliance and movement below, they stared in a