The Island Stallion Races (23 page)

The can dropped from his hands and he ran down the trail, calling to Flame at the top of his voice. The stallion came from the nearby pool at his call, and Steve mounted him quickly. Then he rode down the valley, feeling the surge of muscles that carried him along at greater and greater speed. Flame could
not
have raced only a few hours before and go so fast now! A numbness swept over Steve, yet he continued taking his horse through the marsh and gorge and finally across the smaller valley.

He slid down from Flame’s back at the entrance leading to the sea chamber and ran inside. Reaching the chamber he stopped abruptly when he saw the launch
gently rocking in the waters of the canal. But then, he had expected to find it there. Jay had said he would return it. He moved forward slowly, his eyes on the ropes that held the
Sea Queen
to the wooden pilings. Here he would have his final answer, for no one tied knots exactly the way he did. If Jay had returned the launch, the knots would be different.

Steve went from one rope to the next, examining each a long, long time. Finally in a dazed stupor he left the chamber and returned to Flame.

Night had come to Azul Island. Yet Steve made no attempt to mount his horse. He merely stood beside him, looking up at the stars.

It was the same day, the very day he had told himself to stop daydreaming of racing Flame. He had gone to sleep, to dream the most fantastic dream of all!

Suddenly he laughed at the thought of how ridiculous he had been to think it might be true.

“Come on, Flame,” he said sadly. “Let’s go back.”

He rode at a slow gallop, his eyes turning often to the night sky as the stars grew in number, millions upon millions, and millions more. Yet Jay had said they were nothing compared to what lay beyond.

“What a very silly person I am, Flame,” Steve said, “to keep thinking about a man I made up in a dream.”

Flame tossed his head and snorted as if in complete agreement. Steve grinned and sent the red stallion into a hard run, for what he had in reality was far better than anything a dream could offer.

In the Reading Room of the New York Public Library a thin, wiry man removed his steel-rimmed glasses and softly pressed his eyeballs to help relieve the strain of a long day of research. Finally he looked around the large, quiet room and rose to his feet, closing his books and picking up his notes. He went to the desk in the center of the room, very careful to keep from rustling his papers so as not to disturb the other readers.

“I didn’t quite finish today, Ray,” he told the young man behind the desk, “so I’ll take this one home.”

The librarian smiled and said, “You’ve said that every day for the past week, Mr. Pitcher. Why don’t you see something of New York tonight instead of working?”

The man called Pitcher met the librarian’s smile with grave seriousness. “I couldn’t find anything so fascinating as this,” he said, gesturing toward the book. “And I wish you’d stop calling me Mr. Pitcher, Ray. It’s
Pitch
.” He laughed. “I don’t answer to anything else, and we’ve known each other a whole week.”

The librarian pushed the book across the desk. “All right,
Pitch
. See you tomorrow then.”

Pitch left the room and went down the winding marble steps without waiting for the elevator. He held the book close to his thin chest thinking how little Ray must know about Spanish-American history to believe
anything
in New York could be as interesting. Why, nothing could be so exciting as reading about those Spanish conquests! There was no doubt that the Spaniards had used Azul Island as a supply base. He’d found that out for sure. Oh, he’d have a lot to tell Steve, all right. He was being very well rewarded for this long trip.

Outside the library he paused on the steps, almost frightened by the scurrying horde of people on their way home from work. He was finding it difficult to get used to all this confusion and rush after his life on Antago and with Steve in Blue Valley.

He watched the seemingly endless crowd at the newsstand below as commuters picked up their evening papers and then disappeared into the subway entrance with scarcely a pause. He held his book a little closer.

He passed the stand with no intention of buying a paper. But suddenly he was being pushed by the mob and he found himself directly in front of the stand. A folded newspaper was thrust in his hand.

“I don’t want it,” he said politely.

The newsman continued handing out papers, but his eyes kept shifting back to the customer who hadn’t paid. “Come on. Come on,” he said impatiently. “Evenin’ papers … 
Journal, Post, Telly
 … Here y’are … 
C’mon, Mister, pay up … Papers, get your evenin’ papers … 
Journal, Post
 …”

Afraid that he might be jostled again and that his glasses might fall off and break if he remained in front of the crowded stand any longer, Pitch paid for the newspaper and allowed himself to be pushed to the sidewalk. There he safely avoided the subway entrance and walked quickly down the street to the nearest public waste receptacle. He began to stuff the newspaper inside.

Suddenly he stopped, his attention caught by the front-page picture of a horse and rider. For a long while he just stared at it in dazed bewilderment, then he withdrew the paper and unfolded it.

The caption beneath the picture read:

Up the crowded street Pitch ran, talking aloud to himself, yet no one paid him the slightest attention.

“It’s Steve’s Flame,”
he said.
“There’s no mistake about that. So it has to be Steve riding him. But what has the boy done to his face? How on earth did he and Flame ever get to Cuba? What’s going on back in Blue Valley? Steve, Steve
,
what in the world has happened? Who is that small man standing beside you?”

Pitch turned into the airlines terminal, carrying only the day’s newspaper, for his book on the past had been dropped and forgotten long minutes before.

Walter Farley’s love for horses began when he was a small boy living in Syracuse, New York, and continued as he grew up in New York City, where his family moved. Unlike most city children, he was able to fulfill this love through an uncle who was a professional horseman. Young Walter spent much of his time with this uncle, learning about the different kinds of horse training and the people associated with them.

Walter Farley began to write his first book,
The Black Stallion
, while he was a student at Brooklyn’s Erasmus Hall High School and Mercersburg Academy in Pennsylvania. He eventually finished it, and it was published in 1941 while he was still an undergraduate at Columbia University.

The appearance of
The Black Stallion
brought such an enthusiastic response from young readers that Mr. Farley went on to create more stories about the Black, and about other horses as well. In his life he wrote a total of thirty-four books, including
Man o’ War
, the
story of America’s greatest thoroughbred, and two photographic storybooks based on the two Black Stallion movies. His books have been enormously popular in the United States and have been published in twenty-one foreign countries.

Mr. Farley and his wife, Rosemary, had four children, whom they raised on a farm in Pennsylvania and at a beach house in Florida. Horses, dogs and cats were always a part of the household.

In 1989 Mr. Farley was honored by his hometown library in Venice, Florida, which established the Walter Farley Literary Landmark in its children’s wing. Mr. Farley died in October 1989, shortly before the publication of
The Young Black Stallion
, the twenty-first book in the Black Stallion series. Mr. Farley co-authored
The Young Black Stallion
with his son, Steven.

THE EXCITING TALE
OF HOW STEVE MET FLAME

Steve Duncan had a haunting vision of finding a magnificent red stallion … and finally discovered him in a hidden island paradise. But the giant horse was wild and unapproachable. Then Steve saved Flame from a horrible death, and a miraculous friendship began—changing
both
their lives forever.

A THRILLING SAGA OF DANGER
ON AZUL ISLAND

Flame faces a vicious new enemy! The giant red stallion is used to fighting horses—his leadership of the wild band on the remote island has been tested again and again. But never before has he been threatened by people. Now a greedy and violent man is coming after the unwary stallion … determined to break his body
and
his spirit!

TWO GREAT HORSES
MEET FOR THE FIRST TIME!

When their plane crashes in the Caribbean Sea, Alec and the Black are swept apart. The exhausted stallion is carried by the currents to a remote island. There he finds a herd of wild horses ruled by the giant red stallion Flame. But before the Black and Flame can determine which is the dominant male, they must fight a rabid vampire bat intent on destroying the entire herd.

FLAME WILL GIVE THE BLACK
THE RACE OF A LIFETIME!

Steve Duncan has claimed that his horse, Flame, is faster than the Black. And when Flame and the Black had their first run together, Alec had to admit that the Black might have met his match. Now that the two stallions are meeting in a major race, the whole
world
wonders if the Black can hold his own against the upstart challenger.…

DON’T FORGET THE STORY
THAT BEGAN IT ALL.…