“I ain’t been made acquaintance wid dat hoss,” Pap objected.
“Is you ’quainted wid ten dollars?” Shin asked in an ugly tone, as he pulled a bill from his pocket.
“Sho’ly, sho’ly,” Pap proclaimed in unctuous tones. “Us’ll ride back to’des de gran’stan’ an’ you kin han’ dat money to de fust coon you meet. I’ll put a ten on top of it.”
Deep joy filled Pap’s heart as he watched the black horse walking beside his own Tuckapoo mustang, the little racer which had never been beaten when Pap wanted him to win. Ten dollars was a great deal of money in Pap’s mind, and easily won.
“You double criss-crossed me on dat race yistiddy, Pap,” Shin said angrily. “You made out like I wus a member of de fambly an’ you wus he’pin’ me along. Whut you wus plannin’ wus to rob me of all my loose change.”
“How much did you drap, Shin?” Pap snickered.
“I drapped eve’y cent I bet on Skipper,” Shin said non-committally.
“Ain’t dat too bad!” Pap sighed mockingly. “You is gwine drap a few mo’ change, too.”
A moon-faced negro sat on the fence near the starter’s stand, waiting for something to happen.
“Hold dis money, pardner!” Pap said, as he extended his hand with ten dollars. “Dis little Shin Bone wants to lose a bet!”