CHAPTER XIX
RAISING CAPITAL
Ford sat in his little car, white, shaken, dusty—the track champion of this country.
He was surrounded by a small crowd of automobile enthusiasts, promoters, bicycle champions, all eager to meet and talk with the unknown man who had taken the honors away from Winton. Among them was Tom Cooper. Grasping Ford's hand, he looked with interest at the slightly built, thin-cheeked man who had won the race, and said: "Bully work, the way you handled her on that last turn. Whose car is it?"
"Mine," said Ford.
"I mean" Cooper looked at the lines of the car "I mean, whose engine did you use?"
"It's my engine I made it," Ford replied.
"The deuce you did!" Cooper exclaimed. "Well, I must say you did a good job. I'd like to look it over some time."
"Sure; come out to my house any time. Glad to show it to you," said Ford cordially.
It was the beginning of an association which was to be highly profitable to both of them.
Other men of national prominence in the world of sports greeted Ford enthusiastically as one of
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