"' After I'd beaten the mayor the police magistrate tackled me. He" was like a board set on edge, and was about 70 years old, and looked as if he'd gfowed a foot every year of his life. He got over the hundred yards in six jumps, but, of course, I done him, too, easy; so next time they rung in their crack runner, the chief of police. He was elected, I guess, on the strength of his running, and he was a daisy; but I won again, anc collared big money, as I'd given him a start of five yards in the hundred. After that I could have had any office in the gift of the people, and there was a special page in the local weekly paper set aside for the news of how I was training, how much I weighed, and just what I'd eaten and drunk all the week.
"'After I'd about got through with the local runners,' continued the Californian ' ped,' ' I dropped a line to my American partner, who was training in Melbourne, to come over and beat me. He did, and we cleaned out the town; but, instead of feeling bad over it, liEe Americans, and chasing me out with a shotgun, they came around and offered to back me again, and gave me a consolation purse bigger than that I'd run for. I couldn't see them disappointed, so I run again, and did 'em up as bad as before. I believe they'd have tried it onse more, but I heard of another enthusiastic town down in Tasmania, and I concluded to take it in while the grass was long.
