"I built that
car," shrugs Hurtubise. "It was a good car, a winning car."
Late in the
afternoon Herk begins his rounds. He stops at the Raceway Inn Tavern and then
at the Hitching Post, two roadside attractions just beyond the Indianapolis
city limit in the village of Clermont. He talks with the patrons about fishing,
and the cold weather, and he drinks his Billy Beer in honor of a new friend,
whom he had met at the Speedway the previous May. Hurtubise and Billy Carter
reportedly got along famously, and there was even talk that Carter would take
some of his new-found wealth and sponsor Hurtubise on the NASCAR circuit.
"Haven't heard from him recently, though." says Jim.
Finally, he goes
to the lounge of the Speedway Motel, where for several hours over dinner and
drinks he inveighs good-naturedly against the racing Establishment and mourns
the passing of the time when a Hurtubise could take a pretty good shot at
Indianapolis. Herk had taken some of the best.
One man in
particular, a stranger, shows unusual interest. Hurtubise pays him little heed
until, during a lull, he is informed that the stranger is a man of means who
Herk snaps to
attention. "Wanna buy a race car?" he says. "We can win the
500." Erk, erk, erk.
A few days later
Hurtubise heads for Texas. He has heard there is somebody down there interested
in buying a used stock car, and besides, the fishing promises to be good.