“You really mean it, Henry? But how—”

The old man interrupted him and he moved for the first time. “Sure, I’m confident, Alec, and I know my horses.” He took the boy by the arm. “Come with me and I’ll show you something.”

Henry led him to the far end of the barn. He knelt down beside an old trunk. He took a key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock and opened it. The trunk was crammed to the top with trophies and silver cups. Henry dug down and pulled out a large scrap-book. “The Missus always kept this for me, even before we were married.”

He turned the faded yellowish pages that were filled with newspaper clippings. Headline after headline caught Alec’s eye as he knelt beside Henry: DAILEY RIDES CHANG TO VICTORY IN SCOTT MEMORIAL—DAILEY BRINGS WARRIOR HOME FIRST IN $50,000 FUTURITY—TURFDOM ACCLAIMS DAILEY AS GREATEST RIDER OF ALL TIME—Henry stopped turning the pages, his eyes gazing steadily at a photograph in front of him. “This, son,” he said, “is where I got the greatest thrill of my life—riding Chang home first in the Kentucky Derby. Wouldn’t think that little guy there was me, would you?”

Alec looked closer. He saw a small boy, with a wide grin on his face, astride a large, powerful-looking red horse. Around the horse’s neck hung the winner’s horseshoe of roses. Alec noticed the large, strong hands holding the reins and the stocky, broad shoulders. “Yes,” he said, “I can tell that’s you.”

Henry smiled and reached down into the trunk again. He took out what looked to Alec like old dried-out leaves. Then he saw that they were in the shape of a horseshoe. He looked again at the photograph.

“Yes,” Henry said, “it’s the same one they placed around Chang’s neck that day. Not much left of ’em, but they still hold plenty of memories!”

Henry put the dried flowers back into the trunk. “When I finally got too old and too heavy to ride horses any more, I trained them instead,” he continued. “I married the Missus and we were both pretty happy. We had two children—both girls; now they’re married. Somehow, I’ve always missed not having a boy—some-one like you, son, who loved horses, and who would sort of follow in my footsteps, because there isn’t anything so exciting in the world as lining up there at the post with a four-legged piece of dynamite underneath you!

“Well, to go on, I was pretty successful as a trainer, made good money. And then came the day when the Missus thought it was time for us to retire and get away from the track. Can’t say as I blame her, it’s the only life she ever knew after she married me, and I guess it wasn’t in her blood like it was in mine. We did a lot of movin’ around for a good many years, then we bought this place, and here we are. It’s been two years since I saw my last race—two years. I don’t think I can stand it much longer.”