ception from the immense gathering, but I don't recall whether there was any applause for me or not—that’s how worked up I was.
When the starter sent us away Stewart promptly jumped into the front and started to sprint right from the very outset, riding as if he was in a quarter of a mile race instead of a ten-mile grind. He set a heartbreaking pace in an effort to shake me off in the first half-mile, but finding me right up even with him he decided that he had better settle down and let me do a share of the pacemaking. However, I had an advantage over him as his big frame served as a fine wind-shield for me while I was so small that he did not get a similar advantage while riding at my rear wheel.
After alternating in the pacemaking positions for several miles, and with half the distance gone Stewart's rear tire blew out. Another rider turned his wheel over to Stewart and the latter promptly took up the race again. As soon as I saw Stewart in trouble I slowed down. Soon we were at our task again, and I noticed after we had reeled off several very hot miles that the grind was beginning to have its effect on Stewart. My first thought was that it was a ruse on Stewart's part to save himself for the final dash to the tape, as I knew him to be a very tricky rider. Shortly, however, with less than a mile to go, I could plainly see that Stewart was in distress. I held my sprint for the last quarter of a mile, and then bolted for the tape. Stewart fought gamely as I passed him, but I led him over the line by ten lengths.
I was carried about on the shoulders of a number of Indianapolis men and received a flattering ovation from the packed stands.
Stewart claimed that he lost the race to me through having to use a strange bicycle. He challenged me to a match race for five miles, and I promptly accepted. We raced at Rushville, Indiana, and again I made Stewart trail me over the line. Thereafter I won three other races on the same program.
Upon my return to Indianapolis I was accorded a splendid reception, but I honestly believe that the greatest benefit that came out of my victory over Stewart was the fact that it gave me confidence and assurance. After I had disposed of Stewart in those two races I felt very certain that no rider, regardless of his size or physique could ever shake me off his rear wheel, and no man ever did.
I wound up that very colorful racing season by winning three races, quarter, half and mile, that were held at the Lexington, Kentucky Fair in that city, under the auspices of the colored citizens. Those were the only bicycle races on the program, but they attracted the fastest riders from Louisville, St. Louis, Chicago and Cincinnati.
As word spread about my being barred from the tracks in Indianapolis, because of color, Mr. George Catterson gave me a chance
