But the next day, as we were [coming round the turn in the race for the Gold Cup, and just as the leaders were getting into the straight, a man walked down with a gun in his hand shouting: "Stop! Stop! Stop, or TU shoot..."
He walked right into the course the horses were galloping. Tracery, as anyone who was there can tell, was going wonderfully at that time. No horse could have been going better, and Whalley's chance at that moment was obvious to all of us.
The man walked straight into his path. and Whally did exactly as he said he would, He rode straight at the man and down he and Tracery came in a heap.
It was all so sudden. Apparently, it was only the police who stopped the man from being lynched by the crowd.
Whalley was not badly hurt, and that night we all did our best to cheer him up. There is little doubt that he would have won the cup but for this lunatic—as he proved to be. But, for some reason, the memory of that incident dwelt in Whalley's mind; he never forgot it and, I think, it was largely the cause of his somewhat early retirement.
How strange it was that Mrs, Fox should telephone me to warn me of a fall that I should have in the Derby and that in that Derby I should be riding Tracerys fine son, Abbots Trace.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.