The Black Stallion's Sulky Colt by Walter Farley

not hard. He’s not like the others you’ve had. He doesn’t have to be trained the way
it’s supposed to be done
at all.”
    â€œStop it!” Jimmy’s voice shrilled up and down the shed row. Grooms in nearby stalls stopped their work to turn and look at him.
    It was many seconds before Jimmy had control of himself, and then his words came pouring out while his pointed Adam’s apple rose high in his thin neck. “I’ve taken all I can from you, Henry! You tell me to look at my colt. You tell me how to train him.
You
, who never even sat behind a fast horse. You’re telling
me
. Get out of here. Get out quick before I throw you out!”
    He turned to Alec. “You go with him! I don’t need
you
, either!”
    The blood rushed to Alec’s head. He turned toward Henry, but his old friend wasn’t looking at him. Instead Henry was walking down the row, his bowlegs moving like a very slow wheel, his big shoulders stooped and beaten.
    Tears came to Alec’s eyes. He could hardly see Jimmy standing there in front of him. He heard Bonfire moving about to his rear, and then felt the colt’s warm breath on the back of his neck. He heard himself say, “I want to stay. I’ve got to stay.”
    Jimmy shouted, “Then you do it my way!” He whirled to watch Henry, who was far down the row.
    After many minutes Jimmy turned back to Alec. He was no longer furious but terribly weary. Yet his jaw was set with pure mulishness, and Alec knew there’d be no backing down. He awaited Jimmy’s orders. Finally they came.
    â€œLet’s hook him up,” Jimmy said. “I want you to jog him a couple of miles. After that we’ll turn him andgo a mile in about two minutes ten seconds. No slower. You got a watch?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Jimmy looked at Alec and then said more kindly, “Henry’s all wrong, you know. With our horses y’got to get them really loosened up before they race. It not only helps their muscles but it gets them to a high racing pitch. They’re ready to go then. Any temperament has been taken out of them. They don’t do any jumping around. They keep their minds on the business at hand.”
    Alec listened, realizing that Jimmy believed everything he said. No one was going to argue him into believing that Bonfire didn’t need to follow this set training routine. And Alec didn’t find this so strange when he thought of the younger men at Roosevelt Raceway. They did things no differently. They followed the leader, as Henry had said, and here was one of the leaders—Jimmy.
    He put the hood on Bonfire while Jimmy got the bridle and harness. As they worked, Alec got up courage to say, “You’re sure you want me to go that fast a mile with him on the training track?”
    â€œSure I do,” Jimmy said stubbornly. “He’ll be going faster than that before you’re through warming him up. I want the second and third mile trips to be down around two minutes five or six seconds.”
    Alec said, “That’s almost fast enough to win a Hambletonian.”
    â€œThat’s what we’re aimin’ to do next week,” Jimmy answered.
    Alec stayed behind as Jimmy led Bonfire from thestall. With all this scheduled work it was going to be really rough out there tonight. He wondered if Henry would be around to watch the race.
    By seven-thirty they had Bonfire in the paddock. Two of the three separate mile warm-ups were behind the blood bay colt. And now, less than an hour before being called to the post, Alec drove him out on the main track for his last warm-up mile.
    Alec was as hot as his colt from all the work they’d done in so short a time. He thought he’d never in his life forget Bonfire’s second mile. The colt really had had to step along to finish it in the time Jimmy had ordered. This final trip was to be as fast. Under any other circumstances Alec would