The Black Stallion

here."
    "No, I don't," Jimmy shouted, moving behind George. "I don't stay anywhere I don't want to stay. And now I want to see that colt. I'm coming along." He was excited now; he didn't like the way he was being pushed around.
    Tom could only follow him. He saw Jimmy walk beside George a moment, then his pace increased until Jimmy was half-running. George started to run after him, but finally gave up and came to a halt.
    "What'll we do, George?"
    "Pray… just pray." George tried to grin, and failed.
    "Most of the visitors are out of the shed," Tom said. "Maybe Jimmy won't talk to anyone. He'll just take a look at the colt and come out again."
    "Maybe," was all George said.
    "But he'll see the new sulky and the training cart," Tom said miserably. "I left them near the door."
    "And all the new harness and the wheels," George added quietly. "An' he can't miss those new blankets. Bonfire's wearin' one."
    "And the hot-water heater," Tom said. "And the new pails and brushes and cloths and sponges."
    George nodded. "Yeah, he can't miss any of the stuff."
    "But he knows we need all of it," Tom said hopefully. "We'll tell him we had some money—a little money—left over."
    "He knows how much that equipment costs," George said. "I can see him figuring it all up right now, just as though I was standin' right beside him."
    "Then all he'll know is that we made more money than we've let on," Tom said quickly. "He won't know about Roosevelt Raceway. He won't know unless…" He stopped and his brow furrowed. "George! Where's that big trophy we got when Bonfire won the championship? Where'd you put it last?"
    "That's what I been rememberin'," George said in a low voice. "I took it out of the trunk yesterday and put it up on the tack-room table. I jus' thought I'd look at it again."
    "And it's still there?"
    Soberly, George nodded.
    "Maybe he won't go into the tack room. Maybe he won't," Tom said.
    "We'll know any second now," George replied. "All we got to do is listen." But even as he said it, George started walking toward the shed, and Tom followed.
    They were almost at the door when the bellow came. And the shrillness and fury of it caused them and the visitors who were on their way to parked cars to stop short. Then George and Tom were moving again, and when they reached the shed door, the last of the visitors came running out. George went inside and Tom followed, closing the door behind him.
    Jimmy Creech stood at the other end of the shed, bellowing fiercely. He was holding the tall gold-plated trophy in his hands, reading the inscription on it. When he had finished he looked up and saw them; then the trophy came sailing through the air as he hurled it at their feet. It rolled past them, striking with a sharp ring against the door.
    Bonfire shrilled at the sound of it, then moved uneasily back and forth in his stall. Quickly Tom went to him, going inside the stall to quiet the colt. He ran his hand up and down Bonfire's head while Jimmy Creech continued raging without making his words understandable.
    George didn't move from the door. He waited for Jimmy to quiet down, but many minutes passed before Jimmy's angry bellows stopped; then Tom heard his footsteps coming toward them. He held Bonfire's head closer, wondering whether he was doing this to comfort the colt or himself.
    Still trembling with rage, Jimmy stopped before the stall. He looked at Tom and the colt a long while before turning to George, who remained at the door. Yet he said nothing until he turned back to Tom again. "
Why
?" he asked hoarsely.
    Tom said nothing, and Jimmy turned to George.
    "Why did you do this to me, George? Why did you do this?"
    The fury had left his face and voice. He was bewildered, confused. Jimmy Creech couldn't understand why his friends, his best friends, had despoiled his colt by allowing him to race at Roosevelt Raceway.
    "
Why did you do this to me
?" he asked again, his eyes searching their very souls as he turned from one to the other.
    Tom waited for George to answer Jimmy, but George said nothing. The minutes passed and just as Tom thought he couldn't stand the silence any longer, George moved away from the door and came to a stop before Jimmy. His voice was low and calm when he said, "We needed the money, Jimmy. It's a simple as that."
    "
But I told you never
…"
    "I know what you told us," George replied in the same low voice. "But it was different this time. I decided it. Tom had nothing to do about it."
    "
You
, my best