They went out of sight again down the straight, and, when next viewed by the aero sheds, the Englishman was 10 yards ahead. They tore past the judge's box with Jake taking Collier's shelter, but, on leaving the big banking, the Indian got a wheel ahead for a few seconds. The Matchless, however, quickened up, and was in front at the aero sheds, and came into the straight first. Then came a most magnificent piece of riding by Jake, for he suddenly dashed away, and, before Charlie could quicken up, had got to the front.
Collier tucked his head down lower and made a final spurt, but it was too late, for, although he seemed to be catching up quickly, the Indian crossed the line first, though there was not daylight between them. It was a splendid finish, and both men came in for a lot of cheering, and, though the majority of the spectators would rather have seen the Englishman win, the splendid riding of the American called for admiration from Briton and Yankee alike.
The second race was five laps, and again a very level start was made. Collier made the pace very hot at first and led, amid the frenzied shrieks of the crowd, who were now dead set on him winning this race and drawing level. Past the judge's box for the first time they both struck two bad bumps, and Jake wobbled badly. It was very noticeable, however, that, whereas Collier rode very straight indeed, de Rosier by no means followed a perfectly straight line. Perhaps this was because the atmosphere behind Collier was changeable, owing to the draughts created by the leading rider and machine.
Whatever it was, it was remarkable, for, looked at from in front, one could see the Englishman coming towards one riding perfectly straight, while every now and then the little, crouched-up figure on the Indian would appear first at one side and then at the other, though he never for a second deserted that back wheel of the Matchless. It was great - it was magnificent! At 80 miles an hour this masterpiece of American track riding was sucking away at the power of the Matchless, letting his rival draw him along in the vortex that his wild rush through the air created.
Down the railway stretch, with the wind behind, the speed must have been 90mph. Though the crowd yelled madly and joyously every time Collier passed them ahead of his rival, the wiseacres shook their heads, for they knew who was doing the pacing work. So the tearing, roaring race went on.
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