Jim Neville’s eyes twinkled. “A lot of people are going to see that horse in action if I have anything to say about it!” he said.

Alec felt the earth whirl around him again. “Honest, Jim,” he said, “do you think we could?”

“I’m not promising anything, kid,” replied Jim, “but I’m going to start something or I miss my guess. Take a look at my column tomorrow. And now we do have to get going. Come on, Joe.”

“I’ll go along with you and let you out,” said Jake.

After they had gone, Henry put his arm through Alec’s and they walked back and forth until the blood once again was circulating through the boy’s legs. “I feel okay now, Henry,” he said.

They climbed into the truck. Alec looked back through the small window, and saw the stallion peering anxiously at him. “Yep, Mister,” he said, “that was quite a ride!”

“Well, Alec,” Henry said, “I hope that whatever Jim Neville is going to do gets us in that race.”

“You’re not hoping any more than I am.”

The next day was Saturday. Alec rushed over to the barn immediately after breakfast. Henry always had a morning paper and probably he was already reading Jim Neville’s column.

Sure enough, he was sitting outside reading as Alec camp up. “What’s he say?” the boy asked anxiously.

Henry grinned as he handed him the paper. “Read it for yourself.”

Alec’s eyes swept over the headline—WHO IS THE MYSTERY HORSE THAT CAN BEAT BOTH CYCLONE AND SUN RAIDER? “Yes, I know,” Jim Neville wrote. “I’m the guy that said there wasn’t a horse in the world that could beat that rarin’ red bundle of dynamite—Cyclone. Not even Sun Raider. Yep, and I’m the guy that wrote to Messrs. Volence and Hurst, owners of these thoroughbreds, suggesting the coming match between their horses on the twenty-sixth of June—just two weeks off.

“This race in my mind—and I suppose in the minds of the whole American public—was to settle one thing: To see which horse was the fastest in the country! Both Cyclone and Sun Raider had beaten everything they had met on the track, and it was only natural then that they should meet to settle this question of track supremacy.

“But now, in my mind, this race will no longer prove who’s the fastest horse on four legs, because I’ve seen a horse that can beat both of them. This is something I have to get off my chest, because you racing fans are going to crown the winner of Chicago’s match race as the world’s fastest horse—and it isn’t true. There is still another horse—a great horse, who can beat either one of them.

“It’s only fair to tell you that this horse has never raced on a track, and perhaps never will—because he lacks the necessary registration papers. And now I find that I’m coming to the end of my column, so I’ll close with just this reminder that while you folks are acclaiming the winner of the coming Cyclone–Sun Raider race as today’s champion, I know of a horse—a mystery horse that’s right here in New York—who could probably make both of them eat his dust!”