“Give me a hand, will you, Alec? We’re kinda late this morning,” Tony said.

Alec helped to harness old Napoleon to the little huckster’s wagon. It seemed child’s play to handle the gentle old gray horse after the spirited stallion.

They heard the Black scream inside. Alec ran into the barn. “What’s the matter, Black?” he said.

The long black neck was stretched questioningly into the next stall. He missed Napoleon.

“Napoleon has to go to work, Boy, but he’ll be back tonight.” Alec opened the door and took the Black by the halter. He grabbed the lead rope from a nail outside the stall and fastened it to the halter. Then he led the Black out.

Tony was climbing into the seat of the wagon. “Well, Alec, we gotta go,” he said. “See you tonight. Come on, Napoleon.”

Napoleon raised his head and neighed as he saw the Black. He refused to move. Tony shook the reins. “Come on, now, Nappy. We gotta go!” he repeated. Napoleon shook his head, looked at the Black, then resignedly started off.

The Black pulled at the rope. He wanted to follow. Alec held him back. He reared high into the air; his ears pitched forward and he snorted angrily.

Alec smiled. “Hate to see your roommate leave, don’t you?”

They watched Tony and Napoleon go slowly down the gravel road to the gate. Napoleon broke into a slow trot down the street.

When they were out of sight, the Black moved in a circle around Alec.

“Feeling pretty good, aren’t you, Boy?” Alec let the rope out to give the Black more room. He led him toward the open field, encircled by a stone wall. “You’re going to like this to graze in,” he said. “Just look at all that grass!”

The Black cropped the green grass hungrily. When he seemed to have had enough, Alec ran down the field with him. “Not too fast now, Black!” Alec called as the stallion cantered ahead of him. Halfway down the field he found himself tiring and pulled the Black to a halt.

“How about giving me a ride now, Black?” he asked. He looked for a place to mount him. He drew the stallion alongside the stone wall, climbed up on it and slid onto the Black, grasping the halter with both hands.

He hadn’t had a chance to ride him since the island. The Black stood still a moment, then broke into a trot. Alec was able to guide him fairly well with the halter and he found that the stallion still remembered his lessons on the island.

Down the field they went, the wind whipping in Alec’s face, the early morning stillness echoing with the stallion’s hoofbeats. His long powerful strides made the field seem much too small. Alec turned him around the edge and started him back up the field. They went faster and faster. Alec dug his knees into the stallion’s sides and his own body moved rhythmically with the Black’s. They swept past the barn and Alec turned him back down the field again. Around and around the field they went.