“I remember ’bout dat,” Pap chuckled, as he produced a roll of money from his pocket. “Less go down to de gramstan’ an’ git a stakeholder fer dese funds.”
Skeeter took all the money which Pap would bet, then he walked to the betting shed where a howling mass of half-intoxicated negroes demonstrated an intense love for the improvement of stock.
Ten big, hoarse-voiced, fat-necked negro gamblers from New Orleans pushed and bellowed among the darkies with their little celluloid slates, taking bets for any amount on the favorite, Doodlebug.
Hitch Diamond, Prince Total, and Figger Bush closed in upon Skeeter Butts.
“I hear tell you is got a hoss in de nex’ race, Skeeter,” Hitch Diamond rumbled.
“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.
“Some of it wus five to one,” Skeeter replied. “All I bet Pap wus at dem odds.”
“Dat’ll bust him in about six minutes,” Shin laughed. “By dark, he’ll be cryin’ in dat lace handkerchief he swiped outen de show-hall an’ beggin’ me to marrify his niece so he won’t hab to suppote her no mo’.”