The Black Stallion

friend."
    "And that's exactly why I did it," George said without pause. "Do you have any idea, Jimmy, what it cost to get that Boston surgeon… to get you the very best we wanted you to have? Not the two hundred bucks you saw on his bill. No, Jimmy, his fee was one thousand dollars!"
    "I'd rather have died than for you to get the money
that
way," Jimmy said, and his voice rose a little.
    "But you didn't die," George said quietly. "You're
here
… and that's the way we wanted it to be. And I wanted you to see this colt race, Jimmy. You've never in your life
seen
a colt like this one… let alone owned one. He's a world's champion, Jimmy. He beat the best there is. He did one fifty-nine, Jimmy. Are you thinkin' of that at all? Or are your mind and body filled with so much hatred for the raceways that you can't even see a colt like this any more? He's yours, Jimmy. You bred him. You own him. All your life you hoped this would happen to you… never dreamin' it would come. But it has, Jimmy…
and you're not even looking at him
."
    George turned to Bonfire when he had finished. But Jimmy didn't turn. For a while Tom didn't think he was going to look at his colt at all. And he knew full well that this was the critical moment. Either Jimmy would turn to his colt, or leave the shed and never bother any of them again.
    Jimmy took a step forward, and Tom thought it was all over. But Jimmy stepped in the direction of the colt. And he looked at Bonfire a long while before saying, "Take that blanket off him, Tom,
so I can really see him
."
    George didn't say anything all the while Jimmy's eyes traveled over every inch of the blood bay colt. He didn't say anything until he felt Jimmy's hand on his arm; then, with-out taking his own eyes off Bonfire, George said in a voice that trembled just slightly, "I want the same as you do, Jimmy. Remember that." He stopped then to put a hand on the colt's nose.
    "I want to get people to the fairs, the same as you do," George repeated. "I want them to see
our sport
in the daytime and at fairs, where it belongs. I want them to love it as we do… and once they come to the fairs they'll truly feel and love our sport. And they'll come now, Jimmy… they'll come to the fairs, if only to see our colt. He's a world champion… an' there are more records for him to break. They'll come to see him, all right."
    For the first time, George took his eyes off Bonfire to look at Jimmy. "
We're
going to do that, Jimmy. You and the colt and Tom an' me are going to help get it back the way it was."
    Bonfire pushed his head hard against Tom's chest, and the boy stroked him softly, knowing that everything was going to be all right, very much all right, from now on.

About the Author
    Walter Farley's love for horses began when he was a small boy living in Syracuse ,
New York
, and continued as he grew up in New York City , where his family moved. Unlike most city children, he was able to fulfill this love through an uncle who was a professional horseman. Young Walter spent much of his time with this uncle, learning about the different kinds of horse training and the people associated with each.
    Walter Farley began to write his first book,
The Black Stallion
, while he was a student at Brooklyn's Erasmus Hall High School and Mercersburg Academy in Pennsylvania. He finished it and had it published while he was still an undergraduate at Columbia University.
    The appearance of
The Black Stallion
brought such an enthusiastic response from young readers that Mr. Farley went on to write more stories about the Black, and about other horses as well. He now has twenty-five books to his credit, including his first dog story,
The Great Dane Thor
, and his story of America's greatest thoroughbred,
Man 0' War
. His books have been enormously successful in this country, and have also been published in fourteen foreign countries.
    When not traveling, Walter Farley and his wife, Rosemary, divide their time between a farm in Pennsylvania and a beach house in Florida.