"Every time I see a bunch of rubes," he said at last, "it puts me in mind of Butsy Trimble 'n' the new stalls at Lake Minnehaha Park." "Lake Minnehaha Park," I repeated. "I never heard of such a place." "It's up at Mount Clinton," Blister explained. "It's Ohio's beauty spot." "Get out!" I scoffed. "Fact!" said Blister. "It says so right over the gates." "Tell me about it," I demanded. "This ain't been so long ago," said Blister. "The meetin' here at Latonia is about over. Ole Whiskers has put the game on the fritz in New York, so everybody's studyin' where to ship when get-away day comes, 'n' the whole bunch is sore as bears--you can't get a pleasant word from nobody. "All I got in my string is some two-year-olds of Judge Dillon's. They go back to the farm when the meetin' closes, so I ain't worried none--not about where to ship. "One night me 'n' Peewee Simpson is playin' pitch on a bale of hay with a lantern. Butsy Trimble is settin' beside the bale readin' a hoss paper. "'Gimme high, jack, game--' says Peewee, after a hand. "'I'll give you a poke in the nose!' I says. 'What you got fur game?' "'I s'pose you want to count fur game--don't you?' says Peewee. 'I'll give it to you sooner'n argue with you.' "'You're right, you'll give it to me,' I says. "'Well, I said I'd give it to you, didn't I?' says Peewee. 'You'd rather argue'n eat, wouldn't you?' "'All that's wrong with you,' I says, 'is you're sore 'cause you can't hog game!' "Peewee lays down his cards. "'Now, look a here, you freckle-faced shrimp!' he says. 'Get off this bale of hay--it'll _poison_ a hoss if _you_ set on it much longer!' "'Whose bale of hay do you think this is?' I says. 'You tryin' to hog _it_ like you does game?' "'Gimme my lantern 'n' I'll be on my way,' says Peewee. "'I puts the oil in that lantern,' I says, ''n' she sets right where she is till she makes her last flicker.' "'Cut it! Cut it!' says Butsy, spreadin' out his hoss paper. 'Act like you has some sense, 'n' I puts you hep to a hot scheme I gets out of this paper--us three can pull it off to a finish!' "'I don't want in on no scheme with that lantern snatcher!' says Peewee then to me. "'If you don't age some,' I says to Peewee, 'nursie'll come around here, 'n' put a nice fresh panty-waist on you!' "Then Butsy goes ahead 'n' tells us the frame-up. He shows us an ad in his paper askin' fur entries to race over the Ohio Short Ship Circuit. This circuit is a bunch of race meets that's held on the bull rings at county fairs up through the state. They're trottin' races mostly, but they give one runnin' race at a different town each week.