“Don’t go by sound, Shin,” Skeeter snickered. “Go by looks. Now listen to dis few advices: you waste all de rest of dis night scourin’ down dis hoss wid a currycomb, a brush, an’ a rag. As soon as it is good day, you git out on de race-track an’ lope dis hoss aroun’ fer a while. Ef Pap Curtain is out on de track, you show him how good dis hoss kin pufform.”
Shin walked away, mumbling to himself in his perplexity. But he took the horse to Gaitskill’s stable and followed Skeeter’s advice. After five or six hours of the most arduous labor, Shin lifted his lantern and surveyed the animal. He shone like a new silver dollar, every hair was in place, and the horse was beautiful.
“He shore is a looker,” Shin proclaimed. “I hopes he’s got some speed inside his black hide.”
A little later, Shin rode him slowly out to the fairgrounds and entered the gate. It was just after daybreak, but early as it was, as Shin rode onto the track, he encountered Pap Curtain mounted on Doodlebug.
Without a word they started around in the same direction, each man watching the other’s horse with great interest.
Shin broke from a canter into a swinging gallop, and Pap followed with Doodlebug. By the time they had gone half a mile and had pulled up, Pap knew all about the black horse.
“Did you buy dat hoss wid de money you winned on de fourth race yistiddy, Shin?” Pap asked with a sneering grin.
“Naw,” Shin said shortly. “You tole me to bet on Skipper.”
“Skipper skipped aroun’ consid’able fast fer him,” Pap chuckled. “Somebody must hab felt sorry fer you an’ gib you dat hoss to win yo’ losin’s back wid.”
“Dat’s perzackly whut dey done,” Shin replied. “I’ll take some of dat money back now ef you is willin’ to try a private race.”