The Black Stallion's Filly
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"She’ll never be a racehorse,” murmurs the crowd as Black Minx is led into the sales ring. But Alec Ramsay thinks differently and buys the Black’s first filly to train her for the Kentucky Derby. But Black Minx, like her sire, has a mind of her own. This fast-paced racing story follows a great horse’s journey through training and preliminary races to the opening gate at America’s most famous racetrack: Churchill Downs.
Alec, that I could have got this filly for a thousand dollars otherwise? No, sir. No one else at the sale wanted to take the time with her. They all got too many horses to go to all the bother of makin’ over a spoiled one. But I got the time. And I know something else. She’s got the blood and the body and the spirit to make a classic horse.” He paused, smiling now. “Do I look as though I’m taking a real deep plunge having such high hopes for this filly?” Alec’s face lightened too. “You look as
on the alert for any bold move she might make toward him. Only his hand would reach out when it came; one sharp slap on muzzle or foreleg was his reprimand. Alec had no idea how many times a day Henry groomed Black Minx that first week. Lots, anyway. Her body shone like glossy satin from soft sponges, soft brushes, soft cloths. But Henry wasn’t at all interested in bringing out the beautiful luster of her black coat. Rather it was his way of teaching her good manners. “We’re just getting
past few days. She tried fewer tricks now than she had at first. Still he had to be very careful, never giving her a chance to think of anything but what he wanted her to do. He turned to Alec, standing a short distance from them. “Did you put Satan in the barn?” he asked. “Yes,” Alec replied, “and Napoleon is in his paddock, as you wanted.” “How about the Black?” “He’s in his field,” Alec said. “It’s a nice morning and I only put him out there a short while ago. He needs the exercise.” “I
shoulders. Henry wouldn’t be in a happy mood with this kind of weather. Still, there had been few days like it, many less than Henry had dared hope for. Alec wondered if any candidate for the Kentucky Derby had ever been trained so far north. Most of this season’s top three-year-olds were wintering in Florida, California, and the Carolinas. But the weather here had been good to them so far. He hoped it would continue to be. Even so, could he believe that Black Minx would one day be ready for the
killer!” But he knew the Black didn’t hear him, and that even if he did the command would have little effect. He ran to the stallion barn and flung open the door, looking for any weapons he might use. A leather riding whip hung on a peg in the entryway. He took it. A pitchfork stood by the door. He grabbed this, too, and ran outside again. Reaching the paddock gate, he pulled it open wide, and charged toward the black bodies now wrapped in a deadly embrace. He screamed at them, but his voice