of the crowded stands, resplendent with military uniforms and womenâs silken gowns andparasols. He could even smell the ladiesâ perfume mixed with the scent of horses.
The men from Nursery Stud unloaded in the area reserved for the sales yearlings. A news photographer was there to take pictures; otherwise the area was quiet and empty of visitors. Not until the following morning would the benches beneath the trees be filled with people ready to pass judgment and appraise the yearlings soon to go into the sales ring.
Danny put Man oâ War into his assigned stall. The big colt was quiet and unaware of all the excitement in store for him. The boy ran a hand over him, roughing up the sunburned coat still more. For a short while longer Man oâ War would be completely his own. He didnât look forward to the next day at all.
Morning came sooner than Danny would have liked. It began at five oâclock with the racehorses going to the track for training. But the Nursery Stud area remained comparatively quiet. Fair Gain was stabled next to Man oâ War, and his old groom told Danny, âThe clock runs people here same as anyplace else. Maybe even more so. From now till eight oâclock people jusâ hang over the rail or sit in the clubhouse watchinâ horses work. When thatâs done, they come over here anâ look at yearlings. The afternoons they spend at the races, anâ night finds em buyinâ yearlings they might have liked in the morninâ. Thatâs the way itâll go, Danny, right through Saturday. Then weâll be free with no more colts to tend.â
âMaybe,â Danny said hopefully.
The old man raised his gray head to look at the boy. âNo maybes about it, Danny. Thatâs the way itâll happen, âxactly.â
âBut maybe they wonât like our colts,â Danny persisted.
The old man laughed. âThey be a skinny bunch sho ânough, but theyâll sell.â
âBut I heard that people buy only
fat
sales yearlings.â
âFat and sleekâs the way they like âem, boy. But ours are in good condition. Theyâll see that, too. Anâ they can see the bone structure of every lasâ one of them â¦Â thatâs important, too.â
âThatâs for sure,â Danny said. You could see their bones, all right.
âIf they hadnât been sick anâ weâd had more time, theyâd be as sleek anâ fat as the others,â the old man said. âBut with their breedinâ theyâll sell anyway.â
Danny was silent and the old man studied him carefully. âDonât you go showinâ this colt to anyone in his stall, Danny. When they come around anâ want to look at him, you take him outside where he can be seen properly. A colt stands bad with his feet buried in straw anâ up one place anâ down another. Lead him out in the open where he can walk over a good, flat surface. Anâ you stand at his left shoulder. Donât you go walkinâ âway ahead of him, pullinâ him along like. Hold the shank light but firm. Donât let him stretch his neck or turn his head. Heâll look unbalanced if you do.â
âIâll remember,â Danny said quietly. And he made a mental note to do all the things he shouldnât so his colt wouldnât be seen to his best advantage.
âYou ought to rub more gloss into his coat, too,â the old man went on. âHe donât look very polished this morning.â
Danny nodded.
âMosâ people buy a yearling on bloodlines, but how heâs made is important, too,â the old man went on. âTheyâll study every part of him. Thatâs why itâs important you have him standinâ right.â
âHeâs made right,â Danny said, turning to Man oâ War. âTheyâd be blind if they didnât see it.â
It was funny, he thought. Here