The Black Stallion

heads toward the barrier in front of them as the car moved away, increasing its speed. Jimmy's face was taut, and Tom saw him bring Symbol ever closer to Crusader. Ray O'Neil glanced at Jimmy but said nothing; yet he kept his position, and their spinning wire wheels were dangerously close.
    George Snedecker's hand left the rail to rest on Tom's arm as their gazes followed the pounding horses, going ever faster down the stretch toward the starting line.
    "Don't come any faster, gentlemen," they heard the starter warn the drivers. "Keep your horses back. Don't charge the gate! Hold your positions now. Not so fast on the outside there. Mr. Creech, keep your horse back! Mr. Creech, don't crowd Mr. O'Neil! All right now. Keep it that way! We're coming down. GO!"
    Tom and George leaned far over the rail as the crowd yelled to the quick thunder of unleashed hoofs. The line of horses drove as one down the stretch for the turn. The silks of the drivers blended into a large indistinct mass of colors as they bunched, moving toward the rail. For a second, Tom could make out Jimmy's red-and-white silks, then he, too, moved toward the inside; a flash of green went with him and Tom knew Ray O'Neil and Crusader were going with him in an attempt to reach the turn first. He could make out nothing now of what was happening; he'd have to wait until they came around the first turn.
    George muttered, "Symbol's got the early speed. Jimmy might get away with it. But he's takin' a chance—a big chance."
    Suddenly, from the top tiers of the grandstand, came a sharp cry. From the moving mass on the turn, a horse swerved abruptly toward the outside rail and behind him careened the sulky with its driver trying desperately to stay in it and stop his horse at the same time.
    The announcer's voice came quickly over the public speaker. "Accident! Left wheel of sulky broken! It's number seven; Mr. Creech's entry. But there's no danger. He's stopping his horse. Will Mr. Creech's groom go to his assistance, please! Keep him on the outside of the track, there's a race going on! And now going in to the backstretch we have Crusader on top, followed by Sandy Hanover and tucked in the third position is…"
    George and Tom had jumped the rail and were running down the track past the grandstand. Jimmy was off the broken sulky and was standing at Symbol's head, awaiting them.
    "I didn't think he could get around all of 'em," George said. "He shouldn't have tried."
    "Crusader went up with him," Tom said.
    "Yeah, it could have been O'Neil who did it to him," George said. "Crusader is fast at the break and O'Neil is no dumb bunny—even though he is a lot younger'n Jimmy. Jimmy probably thought he could force him back, and he got the worst of it." They were only a few yards away from Jimmy now, and George added, "He's goin' to be mad. Careful what you say, Tom. Let him do the talkin.' "
    Jimmy's face was filled with rage. But he said nothing when they joined him, only nodding toward the wheel, which was smashed beyond repair. George lifted the sulky's axle off the ground, and they moved up the outside of the track, with Tom leading Symbol while Jimmy walked beside him.
    They were passing the grandstand when the horses came down the stretch for their first trip around the track; they had one more lap to go for the mile distance and the finish of the race.
    "Crusader with Ray O'Neil three lengths on top at the half," the announcer said. "Princess Holly closing fast on Sandy Hanover. Flash Count is coming up on the outside. He's moving fast! Here they come!"
    As the horses passed them, Jimmy Creech glanced only at Crusader, leading the way. He muttered something to himself, but said nothing to Tom. When they reached the bleachers, the attention of the crowd was focused on the race now being staged on the backstretch, but a few people turned to Jimmy and clapped lightly, attempting to let him know they shared his misfortune. Jimmy touched the peak of his cap, but Tom noticed his face redden and realized the people's applause had served only to make him more angry. Jimmy needed a rest, a long rest. He was sick mentally and physically. The immediate future was going to be hard on all of them, Tom knew, for there was no telling what Jimmy would do in his present state. And there was the colt to think about. He wouldn't want anything to happen to the colt or the Queen.
    They were leaving the paddock gate when the horses entered the homestretch for the finish of the