TOD SLOAN 



ately killed Walter Kroot at the National Sporting 

 Club, London. 



I was in Jim's corner that night, and it was not till 

 the twentieth round that the last blow hit over the 

 heart put Kroot out. Of course we were all very upset. 

 I remember that Berry came to my room about two 

 o'clock in the morning. They had told him that 

 Kroot would get over it, but my own idea was then 

 and always has been — although I didn't say so at the 

 time — that it was only a matter of minutes that Kroot 

 could live after Berry hit him. About four o'clock we 

 telephoned and heard that Kroot was dead. They 

 arrested Berry, but let him out on bail and everyone 

 was held blameless, the verdict being given as simple 

 misadventure. I bring this in just to show that, if 

 a man of Berry's class could think so well of my brother, 

 who by the way was two years older than me, it was 

 worth my giving a thought to developing him. How- 

 ever, poor chap, he was so unlucky that I decided I'd 

 better not. He cried on the wharf — partly over the 

 luggage business and partly because he wasn't going 

 with me. 



Lord William was if possible kinder than ever to 

 me when I got back to England, and they were a good 

 lot of horses that they had ready for the autumn 

 campaign. It was during these three months that I 

 was to have the greatest surprise of my life. I was 

 to have a chance of speaking to the late King Edward, 

 then Prince of Wales. One day at Newmarket Lord 

 William came for me to the jockeys' room and asked 

 me to put on my coat over my riding clothes and 

 come out. Getting into the Birdcage he told me that 

 the Prince had sent for me, and that I was to be 

 presented to him. We w^alked to where the Prince 

 was standing, and he smiled as I came towards him 



90 



