There was no time for Stanley to look at the wreck. He kept on with the race. He must win, no matter who might be hurt. It is the cruel rule in races of all kinds. Only those not in the actual contest can give time to look after those who may have fallen in the struggle.
As they tore around on the next lap, keeping well clear of the wrecked car, Varron saw men lifting Burnham and his mechanician away, and the next time around the Columbiad had been turned over on its wheels by a score of men and pushed out of the way.
It did not take long to cover the remaining distance. As Stanley Downs rushed the Thunderbolt over the finish line, his number went up on the board: “Number 5 wins!” Directly afterward the time was recorded also: “103.10.”
This meant that the Thunderbolt had covered the three hundred and fifty miles at an average speed of more than one hundred and three miles an hour.
Stanley Downs had beaten the record!
It was some time before Stanley could get to a certain car parked in the infield, in whom he had seen an elderly gentleman, to whom he wanted very much to speak.
There were a number of formalities to be gone through. The man who had won the Lawrence Cup could not be allowed to go away till he had been addressed by the judges and had his photograph taken.
Then he had to go and change his clothes after a shower bath, and do various other things to bring him back to his usual appearance.
It was all done at last, however, and he dashed for the car that had been his aim all along since he had finished the race and had time to look about him.