Three Carpenters and three Markhams appeared at the main house the next morning and stood in two distinct camps, shifting their weight nervously while waiting for Roarke to reappear from an emergency problem with the weekend's other fantasy. Leslie, dressed in equestrian garb, was there; she said "good morning" to them and suggested they sit down. They all declined, and she smiled acceptance and fell silent.
"We ain't seen Angus, Miss Leslie," Hugh suddenly volunteered to her, startling everyone. Leslie's head came abruptly up from the folder whose contents she was studying; she looked slightly taken off guard herself, but recovered so fast no one was quite sure she had been anything but composed.
"He never came back to the bungalow last night?" she asked.
Hugh, Colin and Dori shook their heads. "I think it means he's up to no good," Dori admitted. "We just thought you and Mr. Roarke should know in case something happens."
"We appreciate it," Leslie told her with a smile, and at that point Roarke entered the foyer and came into the room, surveying his guests as they all turned in unison to watch him come in. He smiled and nodded at them.
"Good morning, everyone," he said. "Since I can see you are more than ready for the details and conditions of the race, let us proceed without further ado. Leslie, if you would kindly remove the manila envelope I showed you yesterday from the appropriate desk drawer, I would be grateful." She set about doing so, while the Australians watched in curiosity and Roarke came around to join her behind the desk. When she had the envelope, Roarke turned to their guests and addressed them.
"The race," he said, "is to be held along two roughly parallel paths through the jungle. They begin just beyond the back of the terrace here—" he gestured to the scene outside the open French shutters— "and each path is marked with colored flags which you are to collect as you proceed down the trail. The trails end at the Fantasy Island stables, where you will find Leslie with the ownership papers and the Black Phantom."
"Is this Phantom really descended from the original, Mr. Roarke?" Linda asked.
Roarke smiled. "Why don't you all come outside, and we'll ascertain that right now." He led the way outside; Leslie was directly behind him, and their half-dozen guests were hard on her heels, Hugh just behind her and at her side as if having appointed himself her protector. Dori and Colin looked at each other and grinned wryly; their older brother seemed to have developed something of a crush on Roarke's daughter.
Once they had stepped down from the veranda, the Australians gasped in almost exact chorus. Standing placidly beside the fountain in front of the main house was a magnificent jet-black stallion, so carefully and lovingly groomed that his coat gleamed with polished blue highlights in the morning sunshine. "Ladies and gentlemen," Roarke said with a slight flourish, "I present to you the Black Phantom."
Their guests murmured and stared, awestruck. Roarke let them react for a moment or two before clearing his throat to get their attention and then turning to his daughter. "Leslie, the envelope." She handed it to him, and he reached inside and pulled out a sheet of translucent film. "The island veterinarian examined the horse yesterday morning," Roarke said, "and delivered this X-ray to me in the afternoon. As you can clearly see in the photo, there is indeed a very large muscle connected to the front legs—one on each side of the horse—that is rumored to have at one time supported wings, as on Pegasus. Mr. Carpenter, will you kindly pass it around." He handed Graeme the film and watched while each person in turn took it and lifted it to the bright sky to examine it. Hugh, the last to look at it, gave it back to Leslie with a bashful but very large grin; she smiled impartially back at him as she accepted it. Roarke watched this transaction with some interest and smiled faintly to him-self when Hugh turned away, face lit up like a beacon.
"So, as you can see, this horse is indeed the descendant of the legendary Black Phantom," Roarke continued. "Now that you have seen him and had a chance to examine the proof of his lineage, it's nearly time to begin the race." He gave Leslie the envelope, and she turned without a word and mounted the stallion, sitting him with the slightly uneasy air of the inexperienced rider. Leslie had ridden before, but not often; it had been necessary for her and the horse to get used to each other through the previous day. Roarke had given her a few basic pointers as well. Now she seated herself comfortably and made a show of sliding the envelope inside the jacket of her riding costume while Roarke spoke.
"Leslie will be waiting at the stables with the Phantom and the ownership papers," he said. "I have set up an appointment with the previous owner's lawyer and will be notifying him of the results once I hear from Leslie. Now, to the rules: as I said, there will be colored flags at regular intervals along each trail—red for the Markhams and green for the Carpenters. Collect the flags as you proceed along the path. The two trails are roughly parallel and about the same length, so that both families will have an equal opportunity to win. If anyone tries to cheat in any way, the entire party to whom that person belongs will be automatically disqualified. The first group to reach the stables will be declared the winner and will sign the papers as rightful owners of the Black Phantom. Are there any questions?"
"Yes…when do we start?" Graeme demanded.
"As soon as Leslie has a head start on her way to the stables." He turned to her. "Go on, Leslie, and let me know when you arrive. You have the walkie-talkie, don't you?"
"Right here, Mr. Roarke," she assured him, tapping a saddlebag.
"Good," he said. She took a breath, then patted the Phantom's neck and quietly urged him ahead. She steered him past the fountain and down the looping lane, veering off the beaten path and disappearing into the trees.
"How much of a lead are ya givin' her, Roarke?" Graeme asked, frowning after her.
"Ten minutes," Roarke told him frostily. Graeme eyed him, looking slightly surprised at his chilly tone, then shrugged and propped one foot on the edge of the fountain, leaning both elbows on his thigh and gazing across the duck pond.
"I have two questions, Mr. Roarke," Hugh said suddenly.
"Yes, Mr. Markham?" Roarke prompted.
Hugh shifted his weight. "What if we have a tie again?"
"Oh, Hugh, for cryin' out loud…Mr. Roarke explained that to you yesterday," Colin said with an impatient groan. Dori rolled her eyes; Graeme shook his head, and Linda and Melissa snickered.
Roarke only smiled. "As I mentioned previously, that eventuality has been addressed in the previous owner's will. But there is no need to go into it now. Your other question?"
Hugh blinked, then realized he was being spoken to. "Oh yeah. Mr. Roarke, we ain't seen Angus since last night. He never came back to our cottage. He was plenty angry when he left, and he said he was gonna do his plan alone since we didn't want no part of it." He toed his boot nervously in the dust while Roarke watched him patiently and the others eyed him, half curious, half wary. Finally he lifted his head and asked in the plaintive way of a small boy, "You ain't gonna let him hurt Miss Leslie, are ya, Mr. Roarke?"
Roarke's eyebrows shot up; again Linda and Melissa snickered, more loudly than the first time. Graeme turned an incredulous stare on the oblivious Hugh; Dori and Colin looked at each other and grinned reluctantly.
Finally Roarke said gently, "I appreciate your concern for my daughter, Mr. Markham. Do you have reason to believe your brother might cause trouble?"
"Maybe," Hugh said, shrugging. "All I know is, he was steamin'." He fell silent and turned away; Roarke absently checked his gold pocket watch, filing Hugh's words away for the moment.
At last the ten minutes had elapsed and Roarke led the two families through the house again and onto the terrace. Just beyond the natural fence created by tall flowering bushes, two clearly-marked trails meandered off into the jungle. "The Carpenters have the green-marked trail on the left, and the Markhams have the one on the right that is flagged in red. You may begin now, and good luck to you all."
Immediately the two families plunged off down their respective paths, and Roarke lingered long enough to see them disappear altogether before turning back toward the house. The lawyer lived at the opposite end of the island from here, and he would have a fairly lengthy round trip; so he paused only long enough to take a key from the gold box before exiting the house.
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Leslie reined in at the stables and dismounted, removed the walkie-talkie from the saddlebag and clicked it on. "Mr. Roarke?"
A moment or two passed before the speaker squawked and she heard his voice. "Are you at the stables, Leslie?"
"Just got here," she said. "Where are you now?"
"On my way to the other side of the island to pick up Mr. Fairbanks' lawyer," Roarke told her. "If either the Carpenters or the Markhams arrive before we do, let them know we are on the way and will be there as soon as possible."
"Will do, Mr. Roarke," Leslie said. "See you then." She slid the device back into the saddlebag and dropped the reins, leaving the Phantom free to graze at will. Unaware of the pair of narrowed eyes that watched her from among the leaves of a nearby hedge, she made her way along the stable doors, greeting each of the few horses that poked their noses from their stalls in curiosity.
A groom stepped out of the stall at the very end. "Good morning, Miss Leslie!"
"Hi, Lono," she said to him. He was a lanky young native islander with a ready smile and a way with horses. "How's the Professor doing?"
"He's in good shape, Miss Leslie," Lono told her. "Still likes his tutti-frutti ice cream every afternoon, of course." They both laughed. "That's quite some horse you rode in here. Is that the Black Phantom we've been hearing so much about?"
"Sure is," Leslie said. "We're finally going to determine his ownership today, and he'll be on his way to Australia soon." They went on talking for a few minutes in low voices before Lono excused himself and departed the stables, leaving Leslie alone with the Black Phantom. She leaned quietly against the doorway of the end stall, gazing into space.