track but was a trifle nervous. His appearance was a signal for applause.
“Shortly afterwards Major Taylor came out. He looked very unconcerned and as though he had some business to attend to and was in a hurry to finish it. Thayer of New Britain was put in as pacemaker. In the first heat Taylor laid back and allowed Fenn to take the pace but followed closely until the last turn on the home stretch, then jumped, and took the lead finishing several lengths ahead. Fenn protested, claiming a foul which was allowed, and about twenty minutes later the heat was re-run. Major Taylor looked angry this time, and at the crack of the pistol he jumped and caught the pacemaker which position he held until the last of the fifth lap, when Fenn made a sprint past both Major and the pacemaker and tried to shake the Major off. However, Taylor paid no attention to Fenn but at the finish made a jump and beat him out three lengths, time 2:25.
“In the next heat judges were placed on each turn and in this heat Fenn warmed matters up some, but started his sprint too soon, although Major was obliged to take the last turn wide as Fenn had the pole, and many thought surely Fenn would win the heat, but when about twenty yards from the tape, Taylor made one of his famous jumps and won by several feet.”
This was the first time in my career that I had been obliged to re-ride a race on account of a protest. In fact Fenn did not enter a formal protest but complained that I had ridden him too close on the turn. I was more confident than ever that I could again take Fenn’s measure when he began to complain so I quickly volunteered to ride the race over as I wanted the decision clean-cut.
The second heat of our race proved to be the final, and as in the preceding race Fenn put up another great battle. His last three-eighths was a magnificent exhibition of brute strength against experience and skill. Fenn was an exceptionally powerful rider and could ride the last lap of a race just as fast as the first one—at top speed. In our race he was evidently riding under the direction of his manager who had instructed him to take the lead in the last three laps, and with one lap to get wound up in, he thought he could sprint the last two so fast that I would be unable to kick past, so I did not interfere in any way, but simply allowed Fenn to ride his own race.
At three laps to go the pace was all one could ask for, at two to go I was sitting pretty but the pace was torrid. As the bell announced the last lap I was still in second place and as we passed the spot where I generally made my jump I was pedalling for all I was worth to hang on. Fenn was now sure he had me beaten. However, just as we entered the home stretch I threw all I had into my jump and nipped him at the tape.
