The Black Stallion

filly. Bonfire can do it, all right," he said confidently, turning to the colt to run his hand down the red-braided forelock.
    It was then they heard the paddock marshal shout, "Hook 'em up, boys. We're going out in a few minutes."
    Tom swallowed hard. The
show
was about to begin! And now each stall was the scene of much activity.
    George and Uncle Wilmer went quickly to either side of the colt and, reaching the sulky, pulled down the shafts. Without removing Bonfire's blanket, they hitched the sulky to the harness.
    Tom talked softly to his colt while he put on the light racing bridle and adjusted the head number 10. He was still a little nervous and his uneasiness communicated itself to Bonfire, for the colt began tossing his head. Tom ran his hand beneath the heavy black mane, rubbing the silken coat. "We're on, Bonfire," he said. "We're going out."
    The clear call of the bugle sounded above the noise of the crowd, silencing the stands. Blankets were whipped off the two-year-olds and they stood naked and eager beneath the bright lights. The black filly with the four white stockings left her stall with Miss Elsie holding the lines and walking behind the sulky; the gray colt came next with Ray O'Neil holding the lines and Phillip Cox leading Silver Knight to the paddock gate. Then the other colts followed, until it was Bonfire's turn to go.
    George took him by the bridle, while Tom and Uncle Wilmer walked behind.
    "You ain't got a thing to worry about," Uncle Wilmer told the boy. "You got all the colt there is, all right."
    Tom said nothing.
    "And you remember you're wearin' Jimmy's silks," Uncle Wilmer went on. "They seen more races than all these other silks put together. They'll give you all the luck you need, all right."
    The red-coated marshal sat astride his horse, awaiting all racers to reach the track for the post parade. Impatiently he beckoned George to hurry up his colt. But George didn't take Bonfire out of his slow walk.
    At the gate, a paddock guard stopped George and told Tom to get into the sulky seat.
    "You an' Bonfire do all you can, Tom," George said. "We don't expect any more."
    Tom drove Bonfire onto the track, and joined the post parade.
    Ahead, all along the line, silks shrieked their colors beneath the brazen lights. To Tom's left was a black mass of people. He turned from them to watch the red hindquarters working smoothly between his outstretched legs, and to talk to his colt—to quiet him and himself.
    The announcer's voice came over the public-address system.
    "Ladies and gentlemen!" He waited until the crowd hushed. "The horses are now parading for the Two-Year-Old American Championship Race. Number one is the world's record holder, Princess Guy… a black filly by Mr. Guy out of Little Mary…"
    Tom looked in the direction of the announcer's booth, surprised that the raceway officials were taking a few extra minutes to give the background of each horse.
    "… Princess Guy set her record of two o three at the Reading Fair this week; she is being driven by her owner, Miss Elsie Topper of Coronet, Pennsylvania, the foremost woman driver in the country.
    "Number two is Silver Knight, holder of this raceway's track record for two-year-olds of two o four. He is a gray colt, owned by the Phillip Cox Clothing Company of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and is being driven by the leading driver of all night raceways, Ray O'Neil. Silver Knight is sired by Volomite and out of…"
    But whatever the announcer had left to say about Silver Knight was drowned out by the cheering supporters of the gray colt.
    Tom turned to them, and saw Phillip Cox rise to his feet from his box near the finish line. He waved his hand to those behind, accepting their cheers for his colt, then he sat down again.
    Finally Bonfire passed the announcer's booth.
    "Number ten, who will trail the field at the start, is Bonfire, a blood bay colt, sired by the Black and out of Volo Queen. Bonfire is owned by Jimmy Creech of Coronet, Pennsylvania, and is being driven by Tom Messenger."
    That was all the announcer had to say, but it was enough to cause Phillip Cox to stand again, this time looking directly at Bonfire and Tom Messenger as they passed opposite his box. There was recognition in his eyes; now he well remembered Coronet and Jimmy Creech.
    Ray O'Neil turned in his sulky seat, as did Frank Lunceford, to look behind at Bonfire and Tom. They too now remembered Jimmy Creech.
    "The field will take two warm-up scores, then go behind