The Black Stallion

race. Turning, Tom saw that Ray O'Neil had Crusader five lengths in the lead. The sound of hoofs died beneath the roar of the crowd as the race ended; then the announcer's voice came clearly to them, "First, Crusader; second, Princess Holly; third, Flash Count; fourth…"
    Jimmy Creech, his head down, gave no evidence of having heard the results.
    It was well after four o'clock when they left the fair for the farm. Jimmy sat beside Uncle Wilmer. Tom and George were in the back with Aunt Emma, who once more held her mincemeat pie, minus three pieces which the contest judges had eaten. Tom hadn't asked her how she'd made out. He didn't have to ask; he had only to look at that sober, lined face and he thought he knew. That's why he was so surprised when he saw the red ribbon tucked away in Aunt Emma's pocketbook when she opened it to get her handkerchief. "Y-You—you won a prize!" he said in amazement.
    His aunt shrugged her shoulders, and turned again to look out the window of the car. "Only second," she said. Tom thought she had finished until he heard her mumble half to herself, "To think they gave first prize to Mrs. Yoder." She snorted. "Young enough to be my
granddaughter
." Aunt Emma snorted again, then was silent.
    Uncle Wilmer was the only one who cared to do any talking, and he couldn't say much now that he was driving through Reading's downtown traffic. Even George was alone with his thoughts. Tom sat back in his seat and thought bitterly,
A great day at the fair! Everyone feels swell for it. Sure. Jimmy and Aunt Emma are angry because younger people did something better than they did. George is worried about Jimmy, and I'm worried about Jimmy, the Queen and the colt. But perhaps Jimmy will snap out of it; he's had spells like this before. He'll be able to take it easy now that the racing season is over and he can go back to Coronet
.
    George told me
, Tom continued thinking,
that a good hot meal tonight and seeing the colt will make Jimmy see things in a different light. With Aunt Emma's cooking, Jimmy is certain to have the best of meals. And when he sees the colt he'll know he's the best, too. But it's funny that Jimmy shows such resentment toward anything new in harness rating, especially the night raceways and the men who race there. "This Ray O'Neil seems to be a very nice guy, and he's not so young as Jimmy makes him out to be. He's in his thirties. Jimmy was driving at that age. But he doesn't think of that, not Jimmy. And O'Neil can drive, there's no doubt about that. He hadn't let Jimmy force him back, and had gone on to win. Then, after the heat he'd been nice enough to come around to offer Jimmy a spare wheel to use in the second heat of the race when he heard Jimmy didn't have one. But Jimmy had given him a curt refusal, and said he was withdrawing from the race. That's what Jimmy had done. He hadn't even gone out for the second heat. And that wasn't like the old Jimmy, either
—
to quit a race
.
    "What's the color of the colt, Tom?"
    It was Jimmy's voice and Tom lifted his gaze to find the man turned around in his seat, looking at him. "He's a bay, Jimmy," Tom said. "Black mane and tail, what there are of them now," he added, smiling. "But it's hard for me to tell what shade of bay he's going to be, because he's still covered with furry baby hair. Maybe you'll know. But it doesn't look as though he's going to be that dark mahogany brown like the Queen. I think he's going to be lighter, much lighter, maybe even a red bay."
    "You mean a blood bay," Jimmy corrected.
    "Same thing," George interrupted. "Red or blood bay."
    "But blood bay is better," Jimmy said. "I've never had a blood bay before," he added quickly, and a sudden, eager light came into his eyes. "You like him, Tom? You see nothing wrong?"
    Tom responded fast to Jimmy's enthusiasm. "He looks wonderful to me, Jimmy. But I'm not—"
    "You got a good head for horses," Jimmy said. "If you say he looks good, he'll look good to me, too."
    "And Jimmy's not foolin'," George said.
    Tom turned to George Snedecker and saw the relief in his face too at Jimmy's interest and sudden enthusiasm.
That's Jimmy for you
, Tom thought;
on again, off again;
but this man so interested in his blood bay colt was the real Jimmy.
    Less than a half-hour after leaving the fair, they turned down the lane leading to the farm. While the car careened over the rocky route and all of them bounced hard on the springless seats, Jimmy said, laughing, "Y'ought to get a new