“Nice going, Alec,” Henry said, gripping the Black’s halter. “We’ll put the bridle on him right away.”

“But don’t you think he’s kind of tired, Henry?”

“That’s one of the reasons why I want to do it now,” Henry answered. “Besides, I don’t think he’s going to mind this as much as the saddle; it has a very light racing bit, and isn’t much more than the halter he’s got on now.”

“You’re the boss, Henry,” Alec said. “How’ll we do it?”

“You stay right on his back. I’ll get the bit in his mouth, and then you can draw the bridle right over his head.”

“Okay,” Alec said, as Henry moved in front of the Black.

Henry’s experienced hands had the bit in the Black’s mouth within a few minutes. Alec quickly drew the bridle over the stallion’s head. The Black shook his head and moved uneasily around in a circle. Alec let him alone. For fifteen minutes he let the Black get used to the bit, then he guided him down the field. Carefully, and in much the same manner as he had done back on the island, Alec taught the Black to turn right and left by a slight touch of the rein. There wasn’t much difference between Alec’s old way and the use of the reins, and the Black caught on quickly.

Alec rode back to Henry and dismounted. Henry smiled. “That, Alec,” he said, “is what I call a good day’s work.”

“Sure is, Henry.” Alec rubbed the Black’s nose. “Nice going, Boy,” he said proudly.

The sun was sinking behind Manhattan’s skyscrapers in the distance as the man, the boy and the horse made their way back toward the barn.

NIGHT RIDE
13

Alec glanced at his wrist watch as he hurried away from the still-dark house where his mother and father were sleeping. One o’clock. It was two weeks since they had broken the Black to bridle and saddle. The full moon was high overhead; the stars were out; a warm spring breeze blew against his face. Henry would be waiting.

He reached the gate and let himself in. The truck Henry had borrowed was standing beside the barn. Henry was leaning against it.

“Everything all set, Henry?” Alec whispered.

“All set,” came the quiet answer. He opened the barn door carefully so as not to make any noise. “Don’t put on the light,” he said over his shoulder, as Alec followed him inside.

The Black neighed when he heard them. Old Napoleon stuck his head out of his stall and neighed, too.

“Shhhh,” said Alec and Henry together.

“Get over there and quiet them,” Henry said. “I’ll get the tack.”

Alec put a hand on each of their noses. “Take it easy, boys,” he said. “We don’t want to wake anyone up, you know.”

The horses recognized him now in the moonlight. The Black tossed his head gently; Napoleon brushed his long tongue around the boy’s hand.

Henry returned, carrying the bridle and saddle. “Okay,” he said. “Bring him out.”