1898

could beat me in the mile, and as gambling was allowed then, they won lots of money. “You’ve done yourself this time” he said when I got near enough to him “They’ll have you back on scratch just now”. “Well” I said “You told me not to look around, and I didn’t”. “Well try and use a little discretion” he answered. “All right” says I.

I was also entered for a two mile scratch, my heat of which I won. Then I turned out for the mile novice’s final.

After the same awkward struggle on the bank, I got away without a hitch, I made a beeline for the leading man, I took the lead, but slackened down to a steady bat determined not to win by half a lap again. This went on untill about fifteen yards from the finishing post, when I was the length of my machine in front, but Little came with a rush and caught me napping when I should have been sprinting, and made a dead-heat of it.

More admonishments re looking around etc. The men who were backing on me were alarmed at the turn of events, and thought that Little might beat me in the run off. (I forgot to say that 1st and 2nd in each heat rode in the final, that is how Little came to be in the final) but my father told them to put their train tickets on me. I now turned out for the two mile final, but found myself fourth, blocked inside at the finish. I was just pulling off my singlet in the dressing room, when I was called out to ride off the dead heat for the mile novice final.

We got away with the crack of the pistol, and I made good use of my legs by increasing my