I had to prevent their doing so was to set such a hot pace from the crack of the pistol that they would have their hands full trying to hang on, let alone endeavor to throw me down.
After hearing my extraordinary plea the officials were intensely interested to see how my plan would work out and picked the best and strongest riders for pacing that were at the track. They were instructed to set as fast a pace as possible and they certainly did. One of the requests that I had made was to have the first pacemaker placed out on the 50-yard mark. When my opponents saw him at that mark they complained that he was out too far but the referee waved aside their protests. They knew all too well that this was a point in my favor because I could jump away from the mark faster than they.
Since there was considerable more than usual at stake in this race I beat the gun a little. So did Eddie Bald, the champion, but in the scramble between us for the pacemaker I gained the advantage and we were off at a terrific rate of speed. Bald was out to redeem himself for having suffered defeat at my hands in the preceding race and he was putting forth his greatest efforts in an endeavor to square himself.
The pace was a scorcher but the race was going exactly the way I had figured it would. The positions were unchanged right up to the bell lap. With the sounding of the bell the monster crowd was in an uproar. There was a mad scramble for the tape but in it the riders had to be very careful in their tactics as the slightest miscue meant certain defeat for them.
As we tore into the back stretch, each rider straining every nerve and muscle in an effort to get the advantage, I was in fourth position and I held that place as we fairly flew into the last turn and rounded into the home stretch. With the most frantic effort I had ever made I fought my way through that bunch of madly sprinting riders and took the front position just as we burst across the tape. My margin of victory was narrow but there was no question about my having won and I received the most thundering ovation that has ever been my lot as I rode an extra lap around the track. The band played "Dixie" and there was a shower of straw hats, fans and programs on the track before I could dismount and make my way to the dressing room.
Every one of the officials of the meet congratulated me warmly on the great race I had just turned in. They all reminded me that I had kept my promise to show them the best race they had ever witnessed. However, down in my heart my greatest thrill centered not so much in having won the race, and I prized the victory highly, but in the fact that I had thwarted the "frame-up" planned by my fellow riders.
