The gist of it was that he had been trying all the week to have a talk with Bud, and Bud had plainly avoided him after promising to act upon Pop's advice and run so as to make some money.
"Well, I made some," Bud defended.

"If you didn't, it's just because you didn't bet strong enough." "I want to look at that horse's hind foot," Pop insisted.
"No use.

He's too lame to run against Boise.

You can see that yourself." Pop eyed Bud suspiciously, pulling his beard.

"Are you fixin' to double-cross me, young feller ?" he wanted to know.