"He never lost a race in his whole life!" cried the Muley Cow, who was
walking just ahead of them. "Ebenezer used to be known as the fastest
horse in these parts. He had a record."

Twinkleheels gasped. "A record!" he exclaimed. "What's that?"

"I don't know, exactly," said the Muley Cow. "I never saw Ebenezer's.
But it must have been a fine one, for Farmer Green was always talking
about it."

"A horse's record," Ebenezer explained, "is the fastest time he ever
makes in a race." Then he added, to Twinkleheels: "You and I will have
another race the next time we're in the pasture together."

Twinkleheels gave him an odd look. Somehow Ebenezer did not seem just a
poky old farm horse, as Twinkleheels had always regarded him. For the
first time Twinkleheels noticed that Ebenezer had many good points.
There wasn't a single bunch on his legs. And his muscles showed plainly
as they rippled on his lean frame beneath a coat that was both short and
fine.

"I don't believe I could beat you if we raced a hundred times,"
Twinkleheels blurted.

"Of course you couldn't!" the Muley Cow interrupted again.

"Oh, you might," Ebenezer said. "There'd be no harm in trying, anyhow.
Racing with me would be good practice for you, even if I did win. If
you're going to have a race, don't look for an easy one! Choose a hard
one. That's the kind that will make you do your best."