The Black Stallion

when they all go to the post."
    Jimmy looked up from his writing to say, "But the colt is goin' to be as big and strong as any of the early ones. I know that just by lookin' at him now." When he had finished filling out the last line of the application blank, he turned to them again. "A name. We've got to have a name for him. That's all we need to finish this thing."
    "A good name," Tom said.
    George nodded. "Yeah, it's gotta be a good name, one that fits."
    The colt was striking the wood of his stall, so Tom left the tack room to look at him. Finding him all right, he returned quickly, for he wanted to help select a name for his colt.
    Jimmy said, "He's goin' to have a black mane and tail and a red body. So how about calling him Red and Black?"
    Shaking his head, George said, "Naw, Jimmy, that's too long. Let's get something good an' short. How about just naming him Red?"
    Jimmy and Tom shook their heads simultaneously.
    "Whatever we call him," Jimmy said, "let's all agree on it. He belongs to all of us."
    "Red Prince," Tom said. "He's out of a Queen."
    "Not bad," Jimmy returned. "But I'd like to give him just one name, if we can think of something good."
    "How's just Prince?" George suggested.
    "No, that's not right, either," Tom said.
    "Robin?" Jimmy asked. "He might fly like one."
    "I don't like it," George answered.
    "He's going to be big," Jimmy said, getting up to leave the tack room to take a look at the colt. When he returned he suggested, "Big Red?"
    "You jus' said you didn't want two names," George muttered.
    "Yeah, so I did. Well, Let's keep on thinking. I want to mail this application tonight."
    For another hour they continued submitting names for one another's approval, but came to no agreement. As though in the hope of helping matters along, they separated frequently, walking down the long shed to look at the colt or to do odd jobs which weren't necessary.
    The winter sun was setting rapidly when George decided to burn some crate boxes that had accumulated in a corner. "I'll do my thinkin' outside," he told them, leaving the shed.
    Tom went into the colt's stall to handle him while Jimmy walked into the tack room. The colt still neighed for the Queen, but only at long intervals. Tom changed his water, and while the colt drank he scratched him on the forehead. His eyes took in the short black mane and whiskbroom tail, the red furry body.
When his winter coat's gone
, he thought,
he'll be so red he'll seem to be burning in the sun. And that, together with his black mane and tail, which will be long then, should make him a very beautiful-looking colt. He'll need a name worthy of his looks and the fire that I know is burning inside of him
.
    "How about just King?" Jimmy Creech called from the tack room.
    "I don't think so," Tom yelled back. "There are a lot of horses named King."
    Jimmy was silent for a long while and finally Tom left the colt to go into the tack room again. He found Jimmy looking out the small window at George, who had the fire going a good distance away in the track's infield.
    Jimmy said quietly, "George always goes what seems miles away from the sheds to build his bonfire. He never takes any chances of starring a fire around here. A careful guy, George is—and you couldn't find a better friend," he added quietly.
    But Tom wasn't listening to him. Instead he said to himself, "Bonfire." He liked the sound of it. You didn't hear that word much any more; people usually just said "fire." There was a tattered dictionary on the shelf above the table. Going over to it, Tom took it down from the shelf.
    "What're you doing?" Jimmy asked.
    Tom didn't say anything until he had found the word he wanted. Then he read to Jimmy from the dictionary: "Bonfire—a large fire in an open place, for entertainment, celebration, or as a signal." He looked up from the book. "As a signal, Jimmy," he repeated, "—our signal to everybody
now
that he's on his way, starting today.
Bonfire!'''
    "Bonfire," repeated Jimmy, and the way he said it and the light in his eyes gave Tom the approval he wanted. Together they turned to look at the flames, leaping brightly toward the darkening sky. "A signal to all," Jimmy added, "—just as you said. Come on!"
    Minus hats and mufflers they rushed from the shed to join George, and together they shouted, "
Bonfire
!" George just grinned and shook his head in approval without taking his eyes from the flames, so careful was he to see that no flying embers found their way to the