"Yeah, he got the rail," growled Dr. Edward Churchill, a veterinarian. "The one against the grandstand."
"Now I know you are lucky," said Wheeler. "That's just where you should be, a long way from trouble. And stay out there, way, way out."
"Well, Stanley," said a passing newsman, "are we going to see history made Sunday?"
"If I win," said Dancer, "it has to be history."
So Stanley Dancer made his history. It took less than four minutes, and when they came up to give him The Hambletonian jacket, he brushed his fingers lightly across the gold emblem over the breast pocket, and he said, "Would you please give it to my wife, Rachel. I think I will wear it tonight. But right now I have another race." And that's the way he celebrated his historic victory—in a sulky.