The Black Stallion

always so close. They would resent very much a fence that kept them apart from the horses; and Tom found that he did, too.
    George said, "More older drivers here than I thought there'd be, Tom. Listenin' to Jimmy, I thought they'd all be young squirts."
    "More young guys, though," Tom said, "than the old boys." And he said it in defense of Jimmy Creech.
    "Yeah," George admitted. "But that's good, Tom. We need young people like you and them."
    "You mean you like
this
, George?"
    And the way in which Tom said
this
caused George to turn quickly to him.
    "No," he said thoughtfully, after a long silence. "It's not for me… not from what I've seen so far. But I don't want to condemn it 'cause it isn't for me, the way Jimmy does. Like I said once before, every person to his own likes. Our sport ain't always belonged to the fairs, you know. Before the fairs we used to block off roads in the center of town an' race every day. Guess you could call this a super blocked-off road." He paused, laughing at his own comparison.
    "And although it isn't for me or Jimmy or maybe for you," George added sincerely, "it's good for our sport in a lot of ways. Raceways like this all 'round the country mean a lot more people are takin' to our sport, and in time they'll learn to love it the same as we do." George paused again, this time to think for a while before going on.
    "When I think about it," he said, "what I'd like to see happen more than anything else is to get all these people out to the fairs to see what they're missing. If they enjoy the races here they'll like fair racing even more. They'll
feel
the difference themselves. And that, Tom, will be the best thing that ever happened to them and to our sport."
    Tom said, "Then I guess you and Jimmy have a lot in common, George. You both want to get the people to the fairs, to get it back the way it was."
    "Not quite," George replied. "Jimmy hates raceways like this an' wants to see an end to 'em. I don't. I say let the raceways give city folk a taste of our sport and get them interested. Then some way get them out to the fairs in the daytime to see the real thing… to
feel
it as they can't here."
    Promptly at eight-forty, post time for the first race, there was a ringing of the paddock bell and the horses paraded onto the track. Roosevelt Raceway officials prided themselves on an efficient, to-the-minute prompt race program— and the reasons were apparent to Tom beginning with the ringing of the paddock bell.
    There was no delay in the post parade. A red-coated marshal led the field past the grandstand and drivers and horses were introduced. There was no lagging by any driver and they kept a close single file. The announcer gave only the name of the horse and its driver, leaving the spectators to consult their programs for information as to color, breeding and owner; this, Tom realized, was super-efficiency aimed at getting the horses away fast in the first race. And he missed the leisurely, friendly voices of the fair announcers, acquainting the crowd with all information despite the fact that it appeared on the program.
    The two warm-up scores were short and fast; then the parade filed behind the mobile starting gate awaiting them at the head of the stretch. Tom saw the flashy, long white four-door open limousine. This, too, was in keeping with spectacular Roosevelt Raceway!
    The car moved, and behind its barrier the horses and drivers came down for the start. Gleaming coats of horses and the colorful silks of their drivers flashed beneath the lights. When they swept across the starting line, the lights in the grandstand dimmed. The brilliantly lighted track was now the center of attention. The show was on!
    Tom watched closely as each driver fought hard to reach the turn first. He saw them move into it and come around, some tucked in close to the rail, others already making their bids for the lead. His eyes never left the tightly packed group all through the race as he watched the strategy of the drivers. They passed the stands the first time around still close together, still fighting for positions… and they continued that way all around the track again, coming down the homestretch in a hard-driving finish that called for a photograph to decide the winner.
    When it was over, Tom knew that the strategy used here was no different from that at the fairs. Maybe the raceway drivers cut their turns a little closer and took more of a risk getting through narrow openings, but otherwise