The Black Stallion Read Online Free PDF Page B

forward to the Queen's foal like a papa expecting a baby. And it's done him a world of good.
    Like I said before, you did it. You and the Queen. So we're waiting to hear from you. And we know that our Queen couldn't be in better hands than yours. You just watch her, Tom. That's all you have to do. You won't have any trouble, and being good to her and loving her as you do is the best thing in the world for her at this time.
    It's getting late, so I got to quit now. We got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.
    Your friend, George Snedecker
    After folding the letter, Tom put it back in the envelope. If loving the Queen and watching her would take care of everything, as George wrote, then he had nothing to worry about. He went eagerly to the door and across the lawn. Perhaps he didn't need Uncle Wilmer at all. Perhaps he could do it all by himself, just as he'd planned.
    Upon reaching the paddock in front of the barn, he saw the Queen's head thrust over the half-door of the box stall. She whinnied and he went to her. He stroked her nose, then opened the door and went inside. He tried to get far enough away from the Queen to look at her body, but she kept moving closer to him, nuzzling his pocket for carrots. Finally he gave up trying to keep away from her and she pushed her nose into his pocket.
    As she stood quietly beside him he thought, maybe Uncle Wilmer is right. Maybe she won't have her foal for a long time. She's so calm, and not a bit nervous. I don't believe she'd be acting this way if her foal were due very soon.
    But that night, when Tom went to bed in his room above the kitchen, he set the clock's alarm for midnight. He would look at the Queen at that time just to make sure she was all right. And at two o'clock and four and six, he'd do the same thing. Jimmy Creech had said she would have her foal this week, so he must look at the Queen every few hours. From tonight until she had her foal, whether it was to be this week or a month from now, he would keep this schedule that he had set for himself.
    The alarm at midnight awakened Tom from a sound sleep. Sluggishly he reached for the clock, groping until he found it in the darkness. Turning off the alarm, he lay back again, his eyes closed. Then, quickly, he opened them again and turned on the light. He reached for his overalls, pulling them over his pajamas; then he made his way down the stairs, picking up the flashlight as he went out the door.
    It was a moonless night and the air was cool. He walked over to the barn, the light flashing ahead of him. As he reached the door of the stall he saw the Queen's head, her eyes blinking in the light of his flash. He turned the beam away, talking to her. Leaning over the half-door, he flashed the light around the straw, then back to the Queen. Everything was all right, he decided. He had probably awakened her. He'd go back and let her get some sleep. But he stood there a few minutes longer, stroking her, before he left.
    At two o'clock and at four the alarm went off, and each time Tom found the Queen comfortable and regretted that he had awakened her again. Perhaps he was doing more harm than good, visiting her so often during the night. He didn't know. But he couldn't take any chances.
    No alarm awakened him at five o'clock, for he had set it for six. He looked at the clock to make sure of the time, then his head fell back on the pillow. But he found he could not close his eyes. He remembered very well that he had been dreaming. It had been more of a nightmare than a dream. He had lost Jimmy Creech's letter, and the Queen was having her foal. He couldn't remember what to do. He had run, looking for Uncle Wilmer, but Uncle Wilmer had refused to come because he said the mare couldn't have her foal for another month. So he had run to town to get a veterinary, but none of them could come. They were too busy and appointments must be made a year in advance, they'd told him. He'd been running through the woods, shouting for help, when he