Fifteen minutes later Alec was still trying to get him into the van. “I’m afraid it’s no use,” he said. “When he gets his mind set on something, nobody’s going to change it!”

Jim Neville glanced at his watch. “Getting late,” he warned. “If we don’t start within a few minutes, we’ll never make the train—and there isn’t another until tomorrow!”

“Black,” Alec pleaded, “come on!” But the stallion only pranced around him, his nostrils quivering and his eyes looking for Napoleon. Suddenly his ears pricked forward. From far down the street came a familiar voice, “Apples, carrots, string beans, potatoes, cabbages, peas.”

“It’s Tony and Napoleon,” Alec exclaimed. “They’re on our street!”

“I’ll get ’em,” yelled Henry as he made a dash for the gate.

A few minutes later Napoleon loped down the street at his fastest trot. Tony and Henry sat in the seat of the wagon gripping the sides desperately as Napoleon dashed into the driveway.

The Black neighed loudly; his head turned toward them. Napoleon’s old legs made the gravel fly. He rushed to the Black and shoved his nose up at him.

Tony and Henry jumped off the seat. “Dio mio,” exclaimed Tony, “what’s-a da matta with heem?”

Henry told Tony how they had taken Napoleon with them when they trained the Black at Belmont and how now the Black was going to run in the big match race in Chicago. “And now, Tony,” Henry finished, “we can’t get him in the van because we’re not taking Napoleon.”

Jim Neville spoke up. “Tony,” he said, “would it be all right with you if we took Napoleon with us to the race?”

Alec began to feel more hopeful. “Do you think we could, Jim?” he asked.

“Sure, if Tony’ll let us. There’s plenty of room on the train, and we’re sure to find a stable for him out there. What do you say, Tony? We’ll have him back to you by Sunday night, or Monday at the latest. And to make everything square, we’ll pay you for Napoleon’s time!”

Tony looked at Napoleon standing with his head beside the Black’s. He was silent a minute; then his dark face creased into a grin. “Sure,” he said, “why not? But no money, thanks please. He’s been-a da good horse for fifteen years—now he’s gonna have da vacation.”

“Atta boy, Tony,” Alec said. “It’s going to mean a lot to the Black—and to us, too.”

“You betcha,” Tony said proudly, as he put a caressing hand on Napoleon’s neck.

“And now,” said Jim Neville, “let’s get going.”

Henry led Napoleon up into the van and Alec followed with the Black. He was as docile now as he had been difficult before.

A few minutes later they rolled down the driveway. Alec sat between Henry and Jim. They waved to the small group standing beside the barn.

“Good luck,” yelled Joe Russo.

“Be careful, son,” his father called. “And put everything you’ve got into it!”

“Take-a da good care of my Napoleon,” Tony shouted.