“The mystery horse, heh?” The gatekeeper smiled. “We’ve been waiting for him!” He swung the gate open. “Take any stall you want in Barn H,” he yelled at them. “Just don’t get too close to Sun Raider and Cyclone. Still,” he chuckled, “perhaps you’d better get close to ’em now—’cause you won’t tomorrow! Haw.”

“Humorous sort of a guy, isn’t he?” Jim said.

“He’ll change his tune,” said Henry.

Alec peered back through the window at the Black. The stallion’s head was still shoved toward Napoleon’s.

Fifteen minutes later, they had the Black in his new quarters. They put Napoleon in the empty stall next to him. The track seemed deserted in the early morning stillness.

“Guess no visitors are allowed,” Alec said.

“Cyclone and Sun Raider must be up the barn a ways,” Henry answered. “The men in their stables will be around, soon as they hear we’ve arrived.”

“And you won’t be able to keep the newspaper men out of here today,” reminded Jim.

“We’ve got to keep them away from the Black, or there’s no telling what will happen,” Henry said.

Alec and Henry then busied themselves around the barn making the stallion and Napoleon comfortable while Jim went to see Cyclone and Sun Raider. Sponges, cloths, brushes were unpacked.

Henry looked up and saw a crowd of men making their way toward them. “Here they come,” he said to Alec.

Henry walked out of the stall to meet them, leaving Alec with the Black. He saw the group was composed of reporters and stable hands as Jim had warned. “Morning,” Henry greeted them.

“We’ve come to see the wonder horse,” one man said, laughing.

“You mean the mystery horse,” another corrected him.

“There he is,” Henry said, pointing to the Black, whose excited eyes gazed at them.

Alec stroked his head. “Take it easy, fella,” he said.

Some of the men started coming closer.

“You’ll have to keep away from his stall,” Henry said, stopping them. “He’s excitable and we want to keep him quiet.”

“Temperamental, heh?” a reporter sneered.

Henry’s Irish temper started rising. “No more cracks,” he said. “If you don’t like it where you’re standing, I’ll throw you out of here!”

The men saw that Henry meant it, and they kept away from the short, stocky figure.

After a few minutes, they broke up. “Maybe he won’t be so cocky after tomorrow,” said a stable hand.

“Don’t know how he got in this race, anyway!” said another.

A short while later Jim came back. “Sun Raider and Cyclone look like they’re in good condition,” he said. “Why don’t you two go over and see them? I’ll keep an eye on the Black.”

“Guess we will,” said Henry. “Come on, Alec.”

First they went to Cyclone’s stables. There was a crowd in front, and Henry and Alec mingled with it without being recognized. Cyclone was led out of his stall so the photographers could take pictures of him.

He was a big horse—almost as big as the Black! His coat shone a bright red in the morning sun. He moved gracefully around in a circle. His head was larger than the Black’s, and his eyes didn’t have that tense, savage look.