The Black Stallion

George had said when they'd filed for Tom's driver's license. "It might not do him any good, even with the colt. And this time Jimmy has to get completely well, the doc says—or be an invalid the rest of his life."
    Tom walked behind the colt while George took him inside. He looked long and hard at the license, for it meant he could drive his colt in the races. And while he knew the joy it would be to begin his lifework the same time that Bonfire started his, he realized the responsibility that would go with it, for they'd be racing for Jimmy. He knew too the danger he would face with no racing experience behind him or his colt. They were both untried.
    George said, "I'll take care of the colt. Get goin' to school or you'll be late again."
    But Tom opened Uncle Wilmer's letter and read it aloud to George.
    "The Queen's in good shape, all right," Uncle Wilmer wrote. "Been on grass for a couple of months now. Never looked better. Your aunt and me are sorry to hear Jimmy's been so sick and ain't better by now. You see he gets good care. Ain't no better man around than Jimmy. He should have been a farmer. Then he wouldn't get sick like he does.
    "Glad the colt's coming along like I said he would. You race him, Tom, if Jimmy ain't in shape. You can do it all right. That colt knows you better'n anybody in the world. He'll go for you. I believe it.
    "And you come to Reading in September! I want to see that colt go. Beat them all, he will. You come. You remember us to Jimmy and George. Your Uncle Wilmer."
    When Tom had finished reading he put the letter away.
    "Do you think we'll make the Reading Fair, George?" he asked, helping to remove the harness from the colt.
    "I don't know," George said, reaching for the sponges. "The money's going faster'n I let Jimmy know. And Reading's a long time off, Tom—September. A lot can happen before September." He brought the wet sponge down on Bonfire's sweated neck and added, "Depends on the colt, Tom. It all depends on him."
    Tom stooped to pick up the other sponge in the water pail, but George stopped him.
    "You get goin' like I said," the man told him. "You only got a couple more weeks 'fore school closes. Then your work will really start. Race drivin' is no cinch."
    Tom left for school, realizing that what George had said was true.
    The days passed, school closed for Tom, and Miss Elsie left with her black filly for the Ohio fairs. It was time for Bonfire to leave too for his first race, and George and Tom knew that Jimmy Creech wasn't going along with them.
    "There's a little improvement in his condition," Dr. Morton told them. "But he's still worrying about his financial problems and that's keeping him back more than anything else. I don't know what we can do for him. I mentioned that as an old friend there'd be no bill from me, and I told him that Mrs. Davis is more than glad to have a home. She's a widow, you know, and a little too old to get many jobs. She's just right for Jimmy. Yet he worries about paying all of us in spite of what I tell him."
    "Jimmy don't want anybody to give him somethin' for nothin'," George said. "That's been Jimmy's trouble all along, never wanting a favor from nobody."
    Then Tom said, "It'll be different when he has his own money—and the colt will make it for him. That and being so proud of Bonfire will do it for Jimmy."
    George said, "I hope so, Tom. But it won't be easy. Nothin's easy these days."
    "We don't expect it to be easy," Tom replied.
    He and George packed for their departure from Coronet. The leather, black and well polished, was put into Jimmy's battered but newly painted red-and-white tack trunks, along with the pails, brushes, sponges, rolls of bandages and cotton. The last thing to be packed were Jimmy's faded but . clean red-and-white silks. On top of old Sadie, the van, was the training cart, heavier and not so narrow as the racing sulky which rode in front of it. Both were covered with tarpaulin to protect them from sun and rain. The inside of the van was well bedded down with straw for Bonfire.
    Before loading the blood bay colt, Tom and George went to see Jimmy. Mrs. Davis met them at the door and she said angrily to George, "
You
left that racing magazine behind you last time. He's been reading it and I can't get it away from him!"
    When they entered Jimmy's bedroom he waved the copy of
Hoof Beats
at them, his face red from his excitement and exertion. Tom and George saw that it was an old issue—one that had come back in