The Black Stallion

got here, too. But the colt is over two months old now. Uncle Wilmer. Even that's hard to believe."
    When Tom left the porch after it had been agreed to go to the fair on Thursday for his benefit, Uncle Wilmer joined him.
    "Where you goin?"
    "To the mailbox. I thought there might be a letter from Jimmy."
    "I don't suppose he'd be racin' at the fair."
    "He didn't say anything about it in his last letter. He was at the Mercer Fair then; that's a couple of hundred miles from here."
    "That's purty far, all right. Guess he wouldn't come."
    They walked to the mailbox together and found Jimmy Creech's letter. As Tom opened the envelope, Uncle Wilmer made it plain he was definitely interested in its contents. "Read it aloud, Tom," he said. "Good and loud."
    "The season is just about over for George and me," Tom read. "We decided we'd kill two birds with one stone by racing at Reading, then pick up you and the mare and colt and come home."
    Tom stopped reading and turned excitedly to his uncle. "You hear that? He's coming to Reading!"
    Uncle Wilmer nodded his head vigorously.
    "I entered Symbol in a race on Thursday; that's the day we'll get there," Jimmy wrote.
    Tom stopped reading again to shout, "Thursday, that's our day!"
    "We'll be there Thursday, all right," Uncle Wilmer said.
    Tom turned back to the letter and continued reading aloud: "We'll go back to Coronet on Friday, and you can come back with us, if you want to—"
    "What's he mean, 'if you want to'?" Uncle Wilmer interrupted. "When that colt goes you go, too. You belong with him, all right." But he didn't meet Tom's gaze when the boy turned to him. "What else he say?" Uncle Wilmer asked without raising his eyes.
    "We got the picture you sent of the colt," Tom continued reading, "and he sure looks like everything you've written about him. George and I can hardly wait to see him in the flesh. Glad to learn everything has worked out so well with your uncle."
    Tom glanced at Uncle Wilmer. "I told him you've been a big help to me," he said.
    "That the end?" Uncle Wilmer asked.
    "That's all, except he says he'd like to meet you," Tom replied, folding the letter.
    Uncle Wilmer said nothing until they were well on their way down the hill. "I'd like to meet him, too, all right," he said.
    "You will," Tom returned, "at the fair—Thursday."
    Although it was only a little past eight o'clock, the traffic was heavy as they approached the fairgrounds Thursday morning. Tom sat in the front seat beside Uncle Wilmer, who had a firm, deathlike grasp on the wheel and whose body swung with his old car as he weaved it in, out, and around the other cars. Tom found himself moving with his uncle, gauging distances between cars and wondering if they were ever going to get to the fair at all. In the back, sitting in the middle of the seat, Aunt Emma held her carefully wrapped mincemeat pie and never said a word.
    Tom relaxed a little when he saw the flags of the fairgrounds just ahead. Attendants of the parking lots solicited Uncle Wilmer's patronage by waving and shouting, but Uncle Wilmer kept his foot on the gas. "No need to pay those fellers," he said. "I know my way around, all right."
    Two blocks from the main entrance to the fairgrounds, Uncle Wilmer swerved recklessly across the highway, bringing the oncoming traffic to a screeching stop. The drivers of the other cars shouted angrily at Uncle Wilmer. But unmindful of their critical blasts, Uncle Wilmer turned down a side street, where there was no traffic ahead of them.
    Tom settled back in his seat, certain his uncle knew where he was going. A few minutes from now and they'd be inside. It seemed a very long time since they had gotten up. And it was, when he figured it out. Uncle Wilmer had awakened him at four o'clock to help with the chores, and Aunt Emma had been up even earlier getting ready. The mare and colt were in the paddock with free access to their stall and a rack full of hay. They'd be all right until he returned to the farm; and Jimmy and George would be with him to see their colt for the first time. And tomorrow? Tom faced tomorrow with mixed emotions. He'd miss his uncle and aunt, and life on the farm. But there was much to look forward to as well, for before very long the colt's real schooling and training for the track would begin. While he'd never have been able to do this by himself, he could watch Jimmy Creech, helping him while he brought the colt along and learning a great deal.
    Tom felt that he had done