dropped from the happy life of a "millionaire kid" to that of a common errand boy, all within a few weeks.
Not satisfied with having this bicycle all to myself I decided to become a trick rider. It will be well to remember at this point that in those days bicycles held the same relative position that the automobile occupied a generation ago. That meant that in reality I was a pioneer in this trick-riding field, and had to teach myself. However, the same perseverance that later played such a prominent part in my successful career on the bicycle track evidenced itself while I was a barefoot boy. After long hours practicing I became a pretty fair trick rider and to my skill along this line I attribute my initial appearance in a bicycle race when I was thirteen years old.
It came about in this way. I went to the bicycle store owned by Hay & Willits in Indianapolis, to get a minor repair made on my machine. After the repair had been made I made a fancy mount on my bicycle in the middle of the store and immediately drew the attention of Mr. Hay. He asked me who taught me that trick, and when I replied myself he smiled doubtfully. I told Mr. Hay that that was one of my easiest tricks and that I had a number of others that I would like to show him if he was interested. He was, and he ordered the store cleared to a certain extent and I did a number of my homemade tricks for him and his guests of the occasion that made them fairly gasp. In fact the exhibition was so good that Mr. Hay, his mind ever alert for good advertising for his store, invited me to repeat them in the street in front of his place of business. In a short time there was so much congestion on the spot that the police were called to open it up for traffic.
Going into the store later on Mr. Hay's invitation he asked me how I would like to go to work for the firm. I told him I was peddling a paper route and earning $5.00 a week at it, and that, of course, I would expect a little more for my services if my mother would allow me to work for him. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when he said, "I will give you that $35.00 bicycle and $6.00 a week if you will come to work for me. I told him I would consult my mother and let him know shortly. I went to work for him in the course of a few days.
My first duty in the store every morning was to sweep and dust, but every afternoon at four I was booked to give an exhibition of trick and fancy riding in my nice new uniform out in the street in front of the store. At the time there was a gold medal on exhibition in one of our show windows, the first prize for the annual ten-mile road race which was promoted by my employers, and which was one of the outstanding sporting events of Indianapolis. I spent more time daily fondling that medal than I did wielding the duster. It
