Now came the second semi-final, Gay's horse at scratch. He got a very bad start, being half turned round when Uncle "loosed off," and he had a hard struggle to get up to the horse in front of him. As he did so, he and that horse got up to the one in front of them (who had made a standstill break), and Gay's horse being in the middle, his sulky got crushed between the other two, and though he drew in front, it was seen that his near tyre, the one on the outside of the turn, had come off. Gay drew in her breath sharply, but Rensslaer soon reassured her, for with luck and a clever driver all was not yet lost. The tyre had got jammed up in the axle fork, and also the wheel, which could not revolve in consequence, and dragged along the ground, but by trotting his hardest, the horse still kept gaining on the leader, although the wooden rim of the wheel got worn through by the friction on the track. As the horses came round the final turn, Gay's horse got level with the leader, and after a desperate drive won, the wheel just holding till the wire was passed, when collapsing, the sulky turned over. As it did so, the driver, seizing hold of the harness with his left hand just above the crupper, lifted himself forward, and putting his right hand on to the pad, vaulted on to the horse's back, and stopped him. Time: 3 minutes 37 seconds. When the driver returned to the paddock, he was cheered by the crowd for his pluck and skill, but Gay's horse was very exhausted, and all of a shake, as the stuck wheel made a terrible handicap on him in the race, he had also slightly cut his near hind fetlock with the broken wire spokes. The betting, which originally had been on Gay's horse, now, as I said above, had veered round to Mackrell's; in fact the race was considered as good as over. When the time came for harnessing for the final, Rensslaer, who had been looking after Gay's horse all the time, and found him in a very bad state, went as a final desperate remedy to the refreshment bar, bought a bottle of their best champagne, and at the risk of its being considered doping, he drenched the horse with the liquor. The effect in a few minutes was very marked; the horse brightened up, and seemed almost himself again. But the trouble was by no means over. In the bar Rensslaer presently found, to his horror, that the driver of Gay's horse had been given drinks to celebrate his plucky driving with the broken wheel, so often, that the man was already dead-drunk, and of no earthly use to drive. Rapidly seeking out Gay, and drawing her aside, Rensslaer briefly told her the state of affairs, and offered to drive for her, but like lightning she leaped to the longed-for opportunity, and whispered that if he would lend her his Faber speed wagon (in which he drove Hettie C. in her trial pace against time earlier in the day) she would drive the race herself.