Perhaps the most enjoyable event of the year in Adelaide was the occasion when the Hunt Club Races took place. The meeting was held at the close of the season, and a right merry meeting it was too. It was a huge picnic, winding up with dinner and theatre parties, dances, and good old suppers. I had nothing good enough to win any race. Buckland was a sure jumper, but not fast enough. Satan's foreleg would not stand training. However, one never knows one's luck in steeplechasing, so I sent Buckland to Leslie Macdonald to be trained, and promised myself a real ding-dong jumping day over the big sticks at Morphetville--and I had it, too. The two principal races were the Drag Cup and the Hunt Club Cup--the former about two miles and three-quarters, the latter about four miles. A maiden steeple, a hurdle race and a hunters' flat race filling up the programme. The best horse at the meeting that year was named Albatross, a jet black, curiously enough, and the property of a good sport, Mick Morris, a Government stock inspector. Albatross had been heavily backed to win the double, the Drag and Hunt Club Cups. I think it was Bob Turner who rode him in the Hunt Club Cup. He had bad luck opposite the grand stand, for he struck the wall hard the second time round and unseated Bob. The race was over as far as Albatross was concerned, and so were the double wagers as far as Mick Morris and his friends were concerned. But Mick and his pals meant to get their money again by backing Albatross straight out for the Drag Cup. Bob Turner had been badly shaken by his fall, and was unable to ride again. Morris asked me to ride him. I had already ridden old Buckland in the Maiden Steeple and Hunt Club Cups some six miles, without being near winning, so I thought I would oblige Morris.