“Good luck done kotch me agin, niggers!” he laughed. Then he slipped behind the bar beside Skeeter, and said:
“Skeeter, you hab done me a large amount of great good.”
“I don’t deeserve no credick,” Skeeter laughed. “I jes’ happened to know Pap Curtain, an’ besides dat, I done expe’unce dat little Tuckapoo mustang named Doodlebug befo’. I monkeyed wid dat pony one time, an’ Skeeter wus a well skint sucker.”
“Pap hadn’t oughter did me dat way,” Shin lamented.
“Pap cain’t ack no diffunt,” Skeeter told him. “Some niggers is like snakes. Dey gotter wiggle an’ twist an’ go crooked to git along.”
“I shore wish I could gib Pap a twist dat he ain’t lookin’ fer,” Shin declared.
Skeeter eyed him a moment with intense interest. Then he asked:
“Whut you gwine do wid dat money?”
“I’ll ack like eve’y nigger—spend it!” Shin laughed.
“I figger on buyin’ a race-hoss wid my win,” Skeeter suggested. “How would dat plan suit you wid yo’ money?”