“Yes, suh, I’s gibin’ him a leetle tryout,” Skeeter replied modestly. “Dis here race-hoss game is kinder new on me, an’ I’s jes’ tryin’ to break in easy-like. I buyed a race hoss yistiddy in Shongaloon from Tax Sambola.”
“My Lawd!” Hitch exclaimed. “You ain’t bettin’ money on him, is yer?”
“Jes’ a leetle to keep up my mind int’rusted,” Skeeter grinned.
“I hopes it ain’t no mo’ dan you kin affode to lose, Skeeter,” Hitch Diamond said earnestly. “Dat Nigger Blackie hoss is de best looker in de worl’, an’ he ack like he’s gittin’ ready to go over de land like a air-ship. But he don’t run no faster dan a sewin’-machine.”
“Ain’t it de truth!” Skeeter laughed mockingly. “I figger I better bet on his looks instid of his gait!”
Skeeter walked away and Hitch Diamond turned to his friends with eyes which glowed like a lion’s.
“Sell yo’ socks offen yo’ foots an’ bet yo’ money on Doodlebug, niggers,” he howled. “Skeeter Butts is done commit hisse’f enough to disavow dis Nigger Blackie hoss complete!”
When the bell rang for the second race, Skeeter Butts found Shin Bone in the grandstand, leaning against the rail.
“I got all our spondulix down, Shin,” he grinned. “Bofe of us bets fifty dollars per each.”
“How wus de odds?” Shin asked in a tone trembling with excitement.