The Black Stallion

that they had had no idea she was traveling so fast. She had given everybody the impression she could have gone much faster with only a little more effort.
    Walking back to the stables, George shook his head as though still uncertain about the sheer speed of Princess Guy. "She's like a bird," he said, almost to himself. "She flies an' you don't even know it. She jus' steals over the ground like nothing I've ever seen. I saw her do it or I wouldn't believe it."
    Uncle Wilmer mumbled something in reply to George, but Tom didn't say anything until they reached Bonfire's stall and sat down in the chairs. "Do you think she was going all out, George? She didn't seem to be at all."
    "I got an idea she was," George returned. "I think Miss Elsie was lettin' her go all the way. But you'd never know it to watch the filly, like you say," he added. "That's the kind of a racer she is."
    "When Bonfire goes all out you know it," Tom said.
    "That's the kind of a racer he is," George replied. "They're different as day an' night. Put them together on a track and somethin' will happen. I don't know what."
    They sat there for the rest of the afternoon, discussing the black filly and the blood bay colt and awaiting Aunt Emma's return from the pie contest. Tom and George were going to the farm again that evening.
    And when Aunt Emma joined them it took just one look at her constant smile to know that her mincemeat pie had won first prize this year. She removed the blue ribbon from her handbag for just a moment so they could see it; then she put it away carefully once more.
    Bonfire had been fed, watered and bedded down for the night, and they were in Uncle Wilmer's old car when the race secretary handed George a special delivery letter. After taking a look at the return address, George turned to Tom, sitting next to him. "It's from the doc," he said grimly.
    With fumbling hands he opened the envelope and Tom leaned over to read the letter with him.
    Dear George,
    I thought it best to let you know immediately what we've found and what has to be done.
    Jimmy's condition is serious. A very rare and severe complication has set in, that of perforation of the ulcer. By that I mean the ulcer has made a leak or hole right through the wall of Jimmy's stomach. The result is that food in the stomach leaks out into the belly cavity, causing shock and the most severe pain.
    Surgery is absolutely necessary, because the leak must be closed. It is a difficult, delicate operation, since Jimmy's condition is poor. It calls for the services of a specialist, and I have already talked to one in Boston. He is flying here tonight and the operation will take place sometime tomorrow morning.
    I'll let you know the outcome. Try not to worry, for Jimmy is in the best of hands and a successful operation will mean that he'll be a well man again. The surgeon plans to remove the ulcer entirely, if possible, as well as close the stomach leak.
    Remember, too, that Jimmy is my very good friend as well as yours
—
and I'll do everything possible for him
.
    Sincerely,
    Henry Morton, M.D.
    When they finished reading, they said nothing and passed the letter on to Aunt Emma and Uncle Wilmer.
    "Then the operation was performed this morning," Tom said in a low voice. George said nothing, and kept his eyes away from Tom.
    Uncle Wilmer waited silently behind the wheel. After a long while, Aunt Emma broke the silence. "Take us home, Wilmer," she said. "A hot meal will help."
    But at the farm they only toyed with the chicken and dumplings, and made no attempt to eat Aunt Emma's mincemeat pie. She didn't urge them and finally cleared the table and washed the dishes herself; then she left them alone.
    Uncle Wilmer turned on the radio softly, thinking it would help.
    Tom said, "Jimmy's a fighter, George. He'll be all right."
    "I hope so, Tom."
    "And Dr. Morton said the surgeon would remove the ulcer when he closed the leak in his stomach," Tom said. "He'll be a well man again, George. Just like he was before all this happened."
    George nodded, but said nothing.
    "Should we go home?"
    "What good would it do, Tom? He's got the best care there is." George turned to the boy for the first time in a long while. "We need money more than ever now… lots of it to pay the surgeon. Fees for good men like him come high, and Jimmy deserves the best there is."
    Tom nodded soberly.
    "And knowin' Jimmy," George went on, "I know he'll get well fast if we can give him money to pay his bills."
    "But