The public address system boomed out in an interlude of silence-“Twenty-first mile.” Kretz led; Ince took pace and the invisible towline carried Chasteen and Eddy. The lower corner swallowed the four. Then suddenly everyone rose. Chasteen, patiently the most potent threat, overslid! A slithering, roaring Scout cocks itself around. It was Chasteen making a great and gallant fight for recovery. He took in the entire speedway in his magnificent fight for control. Ahead the blanketed three continue, unchecked. Dog has eaten dog and it was now Chasteen who is the interloper. The gap widened as the brown jerkined pilot made his fight to fend off a disastrous spill. It was here that Chasteen proved himself a great racing man mounted upon a great machine. The formation ahead was running in record time. They had gained a priceless quarter-lap on a potent threat, and did not propose to lay themselves again open to that threat. It didn’t seem that greater speed could be achieved and yet the brown jacketed figure lay down on the tank and started to drive. He had a quarter-mile to make in the nine that remained. Eyes shifted to the Oakland rider’s great fight. All alone he rode, but it was superb. Watches clicked on his efforts. Wide open down the straightaways, cramping into the corners at terrific speed. The gap narrowed perceptibly. Above in the stands, excited, unofficial timers gave him 41.2-41.3! That is just nibbling at the 90 mark! The twenty-fifth mile and the gap was nearly closed. Then the tail end of the blanket enfolded Chasteen.
The brown jerkined figure moved into the lead and then dropped back into pace. Ince made his drive in the twenty-sixth. It was no dice! He evened with the field; the field cranked on, and swept into the corner as one machine. Ince dropped back to third. Kretz clung tenaciously to his lead. It was only by inches. Three laps, thus-the white flag dropped. The winner was still in doubt although it seemed that it must be either Chasteen or Kretz. Ince had been tried and his metal was found light. Eddy had unleashed both guns and failed on the backstretch. The last corner! They came out high, fast-unbelievably fast! Driving down for the checkered flag, screaming motors bellowed their challenge to time, to space and to distance. And here it was that the veteran proved that racing generalship had not been gained for naught. There was a tiny spot of throttle in reserve and wheel to wheel they dove for the flag. It was Chasteen! Inches only, but it was Chasteen. The checkered flag dropped on a new record holder, a maker of incredible time, nearly 84 miles per hour! We relaxed. We beat one another on the back. It was a great finish. Professional racing watchers such as ourselves, newsmen, peanut vendors-everyone. We assured one another that it was the greatest tangle that we had ever seen. Kretz was second. Ince, riding a grand race was third and stolid Ray Eddy accounted for fourth. Both first and second place men used all standard components, Rio Grande gasoline, Firestone tires, Duckworth chains and Schebler carburetors.