“You ain’t on to Pap Curtain’s curves yit, Shin,” Vinegar told him. “Pap would steal de gold outen his granmaw’s jaw toofs, ef de ole woman had any toofs in her gums. Excusin’ dat, Pap don’t expeck you to lose no money. He knows you ain’t got none.”
“He knowed you would git active an’ succulate de tip, “Vinegar told him. “He knowed you’d git aroun’ an’ try to borrer some money, an’ tell all de niggers you touched fer a few change whut hoss to bet on, an’ he knowed dat eve’y nigger in Tickfall would fall fer de losin’ hoss. I bet Pap’s got all his money on de yuther hoss right dis minute!”
“I don’t b’lieve Pap would treat me dat way, Vinegar,” Shin insisted. “He tole me not to tell nobody, because he wanted to keep de secret in de fambly.”
“Did he know you wus broke?” Vinegar asked.
“Yep. I tried to borrer some money from him dis mawnin’.”
“Ef he loves you so awful much, how come he didn’t loant you some money an’ let you win an’ gib you a start fer de yuther days of racin’?”
“Dat do look like he ain’t actin’ plum’ honest,” Shin admitted reluctantly. “But, you see, it’s dis way, Vinegar: niggers wants to manage deir own money endurin’ of de fair.”
“Dat’s whut I’s gwine do,” Vinegar told him in a pompous voice. “Dat bait you dangles down in front my nose am pretty temptin’ to a sucker, but you done showed me too much of de hook. Excusin’ dat, I jes’ remembers dat I’s been app’inted de officious starter at de races, an’ shouldn’t oughter bet on _no_ hoss!”
Vinegar resumed his walk toward the fairgrounds, leaving Shin Bone to ponder what he had heard.
“I b’lieves dat Pap Curtain is totin’ fair wid me,” he concluded at last. “My onlies’ hope is to pussuade some yuther nigger to b’lieve de same way an’ put up de dough. I reckin I better git busy.”
Shin met Hitch Diamond and presented his proposition to him. Hitch laughed at him.
“Three hosses starts in dat race, Shin,” Hitch chuckled. “Doodlebug b’longs to Pap Curtain, Skipper b’longs to Pap’s sister, an’ de yuther hoss is de plug whut Prince Total drives to his trash cart when he cleans up dis town. Now, kin you tell me which one of Pap’s two hosses is de winner?”
“I ain’t bettin’ on nothin’ in de fourth race,” Hitch rumbled, as he walked away. “I ain’t got spry enough brains to foller Pap’s tricks.”