The State Veterinarian paused for a long while, then said, “Gentlemen, I would like a show of hands of those who will consent to move their horses to the farm.”
Despondently all the men raised their hands. No questions were asked. No word was spoken. The cancellation of the race to which they had looked forward for so many months was of no importance now to any one of them. Instead, each was haunted by the fear that his horse might be stricken … that before long he, too, would have to consent to the destruction of his horse. They were the trainers of the world’s finest horses … horses that in the years to come were to have passed on their speed to their get for the improvement of the breed. Now, they were to be exiled.
The State Veterinarian was speaking again, and the men raised their eyes to his. “Your horses can have swamp fever without showing the characteristic symptoms,” he said. “The only definite way we have of finding out is to take blood samples from your horses and, pooling this blood, inoculate it into the bloodstream of a horse who has not been exposed to the disease. If no evidence of the disease appears in the inoculated test horse, your horses will be given a clean bill of health and released. However, if swamp fever develops in the test horse, each of your horses must be tested individually to find out which one or more has the disease.”
The State Veterinarian cleared his throat. “I know the difficult time that is ahead of you, gentlemen. We appreciate the full cooperation you have promised us. We hope, as you do, that none of your horses will be found to have swamp fever and that clean bills of health will be given to all. We request that you have your horses ready to leave the track by noon. All horses will travel individually, and we’ll have vans for those of you who don’t have any here.”
They filed out as quietly as they had entered the office while behind them the press gathered around the Race Secretary and the State Veterinarian.
Outside the building Alec and Henry walked slowly, neither saying a word for a long while.
“We’d better call your father,” Henry said finally. “He ought to hear about it from us instead of the newspapers.”
“It’s all over, isn’t it, Henry?” Alec asked. “Everything we’d planned.”
“Don’t be silly, Alec,” Henry said a little angrily. “Maybe none of the horses have it … just like the doc said. We have to make sure, that’s all. El Dorado couldn’t have had swamp fever very long, and the chances are good that it never had a chance to spread. There isn’t a stable in the row which hasn’t been sprayed daily with DDT, as we’ve been doin’. I’ve hardly seen a fly around here, much less a mosquito. An’ don’t forget none of us ever used any of El Dorado’s stable equipment,” he added assuredly. “We all minded our own business and that’s what counts right now … no contact with El Dorado.”
“There’s just one thing,” Alec began slowly, then stopped.
“What thing?” Henry asked.
“The day after El Dorado arrived … it was when you went to pick up Satan at the airport.”
“Yeah,” Henry said impatiently, then hesitated. “What about it?”
“I loaned one of our buckets to the fellow who took care of him.”
Henry halted in his tracks. “But he didn’t give it back to you, did he?”
“He did, Henry … that same afternoon.”
Proceeding again, Henry said with feigned lightness, “I don’t think it matters, Alec. There’s very little chance …”
“But I don’t like to think of that … even a little chance.”
“You been usin’ the bucket? You remember which one it was?”
They turned down Row C. “Yes, Henry, I’ve been using it to water the Black.” Alec’s face was twisted in his anxiety.
“I’m sure nothin’ will come of it,” Henry said. “The contact with the infected horse has to be more intimate than that to catch swamp fever.”
“But the vet said they shouldn’t be watered from the same buckets,” Alec returned insistently.
“He probably meant at the same time,” Henry replied. “No sense worryin’ about it now, Alec. Let’s get rid of the bucket and forget it. The Black has shown no symptoms of swamp fever and all that was a couple of weeks ago.”
“The vet said some horses don’t show any symptoms at all.”
“Cut it out, Alec,” Henry said angrily. “You’re not makin’ it any easier for yourself or for me. Why jump ahead looking for trouble? We can’t do anything now but wait.”
When they reached the stall Alec went to the stallion while Henry said, “I’ll get Satan ready first.”
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Alec said quietly.
The Black nuzzled his fingers. Tears came to the boy’s eyes while he looked at the stallion. He started to say something to him but found he couldn’t talk. Turning away, he saw Satan’s head pushed over his stall door. The Black nipped playfully at Alec’s shirt for attention. But just now he couldn’t look at either of his horses.
EXILED!
14
It was a little after noon when the vans left the International track. As they went through the barn gate, turning onto the highway, Henry said to Alec, “A racetrack named for a race that never was run … that’s ironical.” Shrugging his shoulders, he added, “But maybe next year it’ll come off. At least that’s what they’re planning.”
“Maybe it will,” Alec muttered. “But how many of these horses will be around to be in it?”
“There you go again,” Henry replied sullenly. “Cut it out, Alec.”
“I’m sorry, Henry.”
Closely following the car driven by the State Veterinarian, the seven vans carrying Satan, the Black, Sea King, Avenger, Phar Fly, Kashmir and Cavaliere went through town. People lined the streets, watching the procession with sober but curious faces.
Henry grimaced as he looked at the people. “You’d think it was a funeral procession,” he said angrily. “Why, you’d think …” he stopped, turning to Alec. “We’re just making sure,” he added emphatically. “The vet said the chances are all in our favor that none of the horses contracted swamp fever from El Dorado.”
“I know,” Alec said quietly. “That’s what you said before, Henry.”
Their gazes met, and Henry was the first to turn away. “I told you your dad was driving up to join us, didn’t I?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Yes, you did.”
“He was leaving right away,” Henry continued. “So I told him to meet us at the inn in Mountainview … that’s the town near the state farm. At least that’s what they told me in the office.”
They had left the track far behind and were now going northwest on a highway which stretched toward a vivid panorama of woods and mountains. The van directly ahead of them carried Satan; it had been provided, together with a driver, by the Race Secretary. His eyes upon the van, Alec asked, “How did Lenny and Fred take your sending them back to the city?”
“They wanted to see it through, but what could they do?” Henry asked. “You and I can handle Satan an’ the Black while they’re here. No sense in payin’ wages when there’s no work to be done. Lenny can pick up some mounts at the Belmont meeting, an’ there’s work for Fred there, too. Both of ‘em can use the money, so there’s no sense in their just waitin’ around.”
They drove for many miles in silence, then Alec asked, “This blood test they’re going to take at the farm, Henry. Do you understand exactly what they’re going to do?”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea, Alec. From what the vet said, they intend to take blood samples from each racer; then they’ll pool the blood and put this combined sample into a healthy horse … one the vet will get.”
Alec shook his head. “Poor devil,” he said. “He’s the guinea pig.… Then we all just watch him to see if he comes down with swamp fever.”
“An’ if he doesn’t,” Henry said, “we know that none of the racers have swamp fever.”
“But if he does?” Alec asked.
&nbs
p; “Then the vet knows someone’s got it,” Henry said grimly. “The whole business is repeated then, only this time the vet will probably bring in seven test horses—one for each of the racers. They’ll be tested individually until the vet has isolated the one … or maybe more … of the racers who’s carrying the disease.”
“But the blood test won’t be necessary for any horse that definitely shows any symptoms of the disease, as El Dorado did. Is that it, Henry?”
“Yes, that’s it. There wouldn’t be any reason for givin’ that horse the blood test, Alec. They’d know right away that he had swamp fever and he would have to be destroyed.” Henry paused. “But none of the racers have shown any symptoms yet … and I don’t think they’re going to.”
Alec was silent for a long while before asking, “How long will the blood test take, Henry?”
“They say at least forty days. So we’ll be here for quite a spell. The incubation period of swamp fever can be as long as twenty-eight days, the vet said; then they’ll wait maybe another two weeks for any symptoms to show up in the test horse.”
Two hours later they crossed the great open fields of a valley and entered the small village of Mountainview. Far to the north were wind-swept peaks, barren and jagged against the sky. But just to the west, and behind the village, was a low mountain range … a forest of spruce, pine and hemlock.
The only two-story building in the village was the inn, which Alec and Henry passed without stopping. They turned sharp left a short distance farther on, going onto a blacktop road that went toward the wooded mountain range. They drove for a mile across the open plain, then crossed a bridge over a wide river and continued on toward the range. The paved road ended a mile farther on, becoming dirt as it squeezed its way through the heavily wooded region.
“They’re certainly getting us away from everything,” Alec said, looking at the dense forest on either side of the van.
But the road continued to be level and smooth, and they were able to make good time. A mile and a half from where they had entered the woods the road veered to the left and wound up a slight incline. A short distance farther on, the trees gave way to a large tract of cleared land.
The road came in at the upper end of the clearing, and directly ahead of them was a long white barn. Behind the barn was a small fenced pasture, going back to meet the woods and a sharp rise in the ground. A stone house was there, nestled amid the pines. The rest of the clearing lay to the left of the road and it, too, was fenced for pasture; at this end it was widest, gradually narrowing as it found its way through the forest only to be lost from sight by a sharp curve a few hundred yards away.
The State Veterinarian stopped his car just past the barn doors and got out to talk to a man who met him. Finally he turned to the vans, waving them on to the barn.
Henry drove to the front of the barn and parked alongside the van occupied by Satan. “C’mon, Alec,” he said.
They got out and stood in front of their van, awaiting instructions from the veterinarian, while the other vans were parked. Behind the van came the cars carrying the newspapermen.
Henry said impatiently, “I’ll get the vet to let us put the Black in the barn first, Alec. Get him ready.”
When Henry left, Alec let down the back door of the van and went inside. The stallion neighed, and Alec said, “We’re getting off now, boy.”
He had untied the Black when Henry reappeared at the back of the van. “Okay, Alec,” the trainer said. “They’re ready for him.”
Alec turned the stallion carefully, talking to him all the while. The Black stopped at the ramp, his eyes shifting to the long field opposite the barn doors. One of the other stallions neighed; the Black’s ears pitched forward and he whistled.
When Alec stepped onto the ramp the stallion followed him down and onto the ground with no hesitation. The Black moved quickly about and his gaze turned again to the field; the gate was open, but the stallion made no attempt to pull away from Alec when the boy led him toward the barn.
“Take him all the way down to the end stall on your left,” the veterinarian told Alec when the boy reached him; then, turning to Henry, he added, “Put Satan two stalls up from him, Mr. Dailey, if you will. We’re keeping an empty stall between the horses, but all of them are to go on this one side of the barn.”
Alec walked the Black down the long corridor, and the stallion’s hoofs beat rhythmically on the wooden flooring. The box stalls were high and closed above with a heavy wire screen. The stallion stopped before his stall, but Alec turned him in a circle, then led him inside.
As he shut the door behind them Satan entered the barn, walking beside Henry. The burly black colt swept his ears back when the Black screamed at him. Satan moved restlessly but continued following Henry. Alec was going to him when Henry said, “Better stay away, Alec. The Black won’t like it any.”
Henry had Satan in his stall when Phar Fly entered the barn, followed closely by Avenger, Cavaliere, Sea King and Kashmir.
When they were all inside their stalls the Black was still screaming his challenging blasts. And his eyes blazed fiercely through the wire mesh as he looked up the row at the other stallions.
“He ought to get used to having them around, now,” Henry said. “He’s not going to have anything else to look at for a long while.”
“What difference does it make now?” Alec asked bitterly.
But Henry didn’t answer.
Jim Neville left the group of reporters gathered about the State Veterinarian and walked over to them. “I’m sorry,” he told Alec. “I feel partly responsible for the Black’s being here. I haven’t forgotten the talk we had, Alec.”
“It was my decision to make,” Alec said, walking away. “I’m the only one responsible for anything that happens.”
The boy went outside the barn, his eyes following the white fence of the field beyond, noting that it extended all along the edges of the forest. “They won’t even be able to get out there,” he said bitterly. “They can’t even eat off the same ground.”
He had been standing there many minutes when a small coupe came down the road. He watched it as it drew closer. Then suddenly he burst into a run.
His father sat behind the wheel of the car, and beside him was Tony!
Reaching the car, Alec jumped into it, and his father’s hand clasped his arm. “We got to the inn early and found out how to get here,” Mr. Ramsay said.
Tony was first out of the car. “I come when your father tell me this-a terrible thing, Aleec,” he said sadly. “I no can work, so I come.”
“It was good of you, Tony,” Alec said. Then, nodding toward the barn, he added, “They’re all in there … Henry, too.”
“You coming?” his father asked when he and Tony started for the barn without Alec.
“I think I’ll stay here, Dad. Henry will tell you everything we know.”
Alec walked up the road and didn’t return to the barn until he saw the State Veterinarian appear at the door, with the trainers gathered about him. He reached them in time to hear the veterinarian say, “The test horse will be here tomorrow, and we have decided to take blood samples of your horses then. After the inoculation of the test horse, there won’t be anything to do but wait. You can feel free to leave your horses in our care, well knowing that everything possible will be done for them. Or you can stay … whichever suits your plans better. If no evidence of swamp fever is disclosed in the test horse, clean bills of health will be given your horses in forty days. I would like to ask that you leave with me your forwarding address if you decide to leave Mountainview. We would, of course, have to get in touch with you immediately if swamp fever developed in your horse.”
The State Veterinarian turned to his assistants, and it was obvious to all that the meeting was over. Taking Alec by the arm, Henry said, “Let’s get our stuff out of the vans and put it in the stall between Satan and the Black; then we’ll feed ’em and have just enough time to get back to the inn before dark.”
<
br /> “Can’t we stay here, Henry?”
“No, they don’t want us sleeping in the barn. Besides, we’ll do better at the inn nights. We’ll be needin’ our rest with forty long days ahead of us.”
“I only hope it’s forty days,” Alec said. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen sooner.”
Mr. Ramsay went along with them to help unload their tack. But Tony, unnoticed by the others, stayed behind, and as soon as the huckster saw them enter Henry’s van he moved closer to the veterinarian. Patiently he waited until the veterinarian moved away from his assistants and headed for the stone house. Tony followed him.
“Meester Veterinary,” he called. “One minute, please.” And when the veterinarian stopped and turned to him, Tony said, “I am good friend of Aleec Ramsay and Henree Dailey.”
The veterinarian smiled. “I’m sure you are,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“My horse, Napoleon, he’s-a good friend of the Black and Satan.” Tony paused to look over his shoulder. “Maybe it would be better if I walk with you to your house, yes? It is something very private I wish to say to you.”
Tony waited until they had reached the wide veranda of the house before continuing. “This-a test horse I hear you and my friend Henree talk about. In him you will put the blood of the Black and Satan, yes?”
“Yes,” the veterinarian said. “Their blood along with samples from others will be inoculated into the test horse.”