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The Black Stallion Returns [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Juvenile Fiction)
  • Author:  Farley, Walter
  • Author:  Farley, Walter
  • ISBN-10:  0679813446
  • ISBN-10:  0679813446
  • ISBN-13:  9780679813446
  • ISBN-13:  9780679813446
  • Publisher:  Yearling
  • Publisher:  Yearling
  • Pages:  240
  • Pages:  240
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-May-1991
  • Pub Date:  01-May-1991
  • SKU:  0679813446-11-MING
  • SKU:  0679813446-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100120036
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Dec 10 to Dec 12
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

In this, the second book in the series, the heart-stopping adventures of the Black Stallion continue as Alec discovers that two men are after the Black. One claims to be the Black’s rightful owner and one is trying to kill the beautiful steed. An Arab chieftain proves his ownership of the Black and takes him away, but Alec is determined to find his horse again. Following the pair to Arabia, Alec encounters great evil and intrigue, as only a horse as spectacular as the Black could inspire.Walter Farley's first book, The Black Stallion, was an instant hit when it appeared in 1941. Mr. Farley went on to write thirty-three other enormously popular books about the Black Stallion and other horses which were published in more than twenty countries. He died in 1989, shortly before the publication of his last novel, The Young Black Stallion, written with his son Steven.Night hung black and heavy about the old barn. An iron gate creaked a short distance away and a few minutes later the short figure of a man slid alongside the barn. As he moved cautiously forward his fat, gloved hand felt the wood. The man stopped as he neared the door and his hand dug into his right coat pocket. Fumbling, he searched for something. Not finding it, he uttered an oath and reached awkwardly across to his left-hand pocket. He pulled the empty sleeve from the pocket and reached inside, withdrawing a long hypodermic needle. His dark-skinned face creased into folds of fatty tissue as he smiled. Moving forward once again, he did not bother to replace the empty coat sleeve and it hung limply at his side in the still air.

The prowler reached the door. Carefully he opened it and slid inside. His eyes, already accustomed to the darkness, made out the stalls on the other side of the barn. As he moved toward them, his thumb slipped to the back of the hypodermic needle.

The hard ring of a horse's hoofs against the floor came from one of the stalls. Then a ll8

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