Alec climbed wearily back into bed. He was really tired now. He glanced at the clock—two-fifteen—and he wanted to be over to the barn early the next morning! His head fell back on the pillow. He was soon fast asleep.

ESCAPE
9

The next morning when Alec opened his eyes, he saw the familiar high school banners hanging on the walls. It was good to be in his own room again. Then right away he wondered how the Black was after his rumpus of last night! Alec turned on his side and looked out the window. The sun was rising. It must be around six o’clock.

Not much sleep—but then he was accustomed to that after the last few months. The leaves on the trees were turning a bright autumn red. He was glad his father had told him he wouldn’t have to go to school today. “One more day won’t hurt,” he had said, “and it’ll give you a chance to accustom yourself again.” He knew what his father had really meant was that it would give him a chance to accustom the Black to his new surroundings!

Alec jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He took a cold shower, dressed and tiptoed down the stairs. He opened the door and went out into the crisp morning air. It was quiet as only early morning can be. The grass was wet with a heavy dew. He walked down the street, softly whistling to himself. A safe distance away from the house he began to sing.

He found the gate ajar. Someone must be there already—perhaps Tony! He ran up the road toward the barn, and heard a deep bass voice coming from inside. “San-ta Lu-ci-a, Santa Lu-cia!” Sure, that couldn’t be anyone else but Tony! The barn door was open. Alec saw the little Italian sitting on a chair, his eyes fastened on the two stalls from which were coming deep munching sounds.

“Hello, Tony!”

Tony turned, his dark, wrinkled face creasing into a broad smile. “Hello,” he said. “You see, I’m not afraid of heem any more!”

“Yes,” Alec laughed, “I can see that. You’ll get along swell with him as time goes on!”

“Ah, he’s one great fella—make-a me think when Napoleon was-a young! So frisky, so full of pep, and when he saw me feed Napoleon, he let me feed heem, too!”

“That’s pretty good, Tony. Usually he won’t let anyone get near him but me.”

“Look at them,” Tony said.

Napoleon had shoved his nose through the bars and was trying to get at the Black’s feed box. The stallion playfully nipped him. Napoleon withdrew his head and looked over the stall door.

“Time to go to work, young fella,” laughed Tony. He let him out of the stall, and rubbed his hand over the gray, ragged coat. “Tomorrow I give heem a good bath so he’ll be white as snow!” he said.

Alec watched Tony harness Napoleon. He saw him tenderly arrange a thick pad over the cut on Napoleon’s shoulder. He noticed that the Black was also an interested spectator.