d hair is curly； and his lank blond hair is straight。 Looking down on me that way gave him a psychological advantage； a feeling of power； and I wanted him to have it…hoping that his overconfidence would help me get even better odds that afternoon。
Burke had written me a postcard to Homestead； challenging Sandspur to the fight at even money。 I had accepted by return mail； glad to get a chance at his Ace cock； Little David。 Little David wasn't so little in his reputation。 He was an eight…time winner and had had a lot of publicity。 When my Sandspur beat Burke's Little David； his value would be doubled； and my chances for taking the Southern Conference championship would be improved。
On the drive from Homestead to Belle Glade； I had thought of the crack…on…the…bill plan； and now I didn't want even money or two to one either。 After the bettors looked at the birds before the pitting； I expected to get odds of four to one； at least。 I had eight hundred and fifty dollars in my wallet and I didn't want to take Burke's offer； but after accepting an even…money fight by mail； I couldn't legitimately turn down the new odds。
I snapped my fingers out four times； folded in my thumb； and held up four fingers。 I nodded twice。
〃You mean you've only got a hundred dollars to bet？〃 Burke said； with a short angry laugh。 〃1 figured on taking you for at least a thousand！〃
I pointed to the coop and lifted a forefinger to show Burke I only had the one cock。 He knew very well I had lost four birds at Homestead。 By this time； everybody in Florida and half of Georgia knew it。
Jack Burke followed the Cocker's Code of Conduct； and he was honest； but he disliked me。 Although my luck had been mostly bad for the last three years； four years before at Bioxi my novice stag； Pinky； had killed his Ace； Pepperpot。 He would never be able to forgive or forget that beating。 Pinky had won only one fight against five for his cock； and Burke had taken a terrific loss at five…to…one odds。 More than the money he had lost； he had resented my winning。 A columnist in The Southern Cockfighter had unfairly blamed his conditioning methods for the loss。 Actually； Pinky had only made a lucky hit。 A man is foolish to fight stags； but I had needed the young bird to fill out my entry for the main…not expecting to clobber Pepperpot。
Burke studied the ground； rubbing his freshly shaven chin。 He was in his middle forties； and he wore his pale； yellow hair much too long。 He paid considerable attention to his clothes。 Even at daybreak he was wearing a blue seersucker suit； white shirt and necktie； and black…and…white shoes。 Two…toned shoes indicate an ambivalent personality； a man who can't make up his mind。
〃Okay； Mr。 Mansfield；〃 Burke said at last； slapping his leg。 〃I'll take your hundred dollars and give you a two…toone。 I know damned well Sandspur can't beat Little David； but your cock always has a chance of getting in a lucky hit 。 。 。 the way Pinky did in Bioxi； for instance。 So let's say you really get lucky…what do you have？ Two hundred dollars。 To give you a fighting chance to get on your feet again after Homestead； I'll put up eight hundred bucks against your car and trailer。 Even money。〃
I chewed my lower lip； but the bet was fair。 My battered Caddy was worth at least eight hundred； but I didn't know what the trailer was worth。 Secondhand trailers bring in peculiar prices； and mine was fairly small； with only one bedroom and one door。 If I unloaded the car and trailer through a newspaper advertisement； I could've probably sold them both together for at least a thousand。 Burke wanted to beat me so bad he could taste it。 And if Little David won； I'd be out on the highway with my thumb out。
I stuck out my right hand and Burke grabbed it eagerly。 The bet was made。
〃Too bad you haven't got anything else to lose；〃 Burke laughed gleefully。 〃I'd like to make another bet that you just made a bad bet！〃
My lips curved into a broad smile as I thought of Dody sleeping peacefully inside the trailer。 In the unlikely event that Burke's cock did win the fight； he would also be stuck with Dody。 When I pictured Burke in my mind stopping at every gas station on the road to buy Dody ice cream and Coca…Colas it was impossible to suppress my smile。 On the way up from Homestead she had damned near driven me crazy。
But now the bet was made。
I consulted my wristwatch。 Two thirty。 It was time to go。 Bill Sanders was going to meet me outside the pit at three to pick up my betting money。 I stashed a hundred dollars in the utensil cupboard to cover my two…to…one bet with Burke； counted the rest of my money； and it came out to an even seven hundred and fifty dollars。 That was everything； except for a folded ten…dollar bill in my watch pocket。 This was my getaway bread…just in case。
I put my straw cowboy hat on my head to protect my face from the Florida sun； picked up the aluminum coop and my gaff case； and stepped outside。 There were fourteen trailers in Captain Mack's Trailer Camp； including mine； and if you had touched any one of them； you would have burned your hand。 In the distance； across the flat； desolate country I could see Belle Glade； three miles away。 The heat waves rising off the sandy land resembled great sheets of quivering cellophane。 I turned away from the trailers and started toward the hammock clump a mile away where the pit had been set up。 As hot as it was； I was in no mood to unhitch my car from the trailer and work up a worse sweat than I had； and the walk was only a mile。
There was a wire gate behind the camp； with an old…timer collecting an entrance fee of three dollars。 I raised my coop to show him I was an entrant； and he let me through without collecting a fee。 As I passed through the gate； Dody came flying up the trail； pigtails bouncing on her shoulders。 She was barefooted； wearing a pair of red silk hot pants and a white sleeveless blouse。 Her big unhampered breasts jounced up and down as she ran。
〃Frank！〃 she called out before she reached the gate。 〃Take me with you！ Please； Frank！〃
The gateman； a grizzled old man in blue overalls； raised his white brows。 I shook my head。 He closed and latched the gate as Dody reached it。
〃Damn you； Frank！〃 Dody shouted angrily。 〃You don't let me do nothin'。 You know I've never seen you cockfight。 Please let me go！〃
I ignored her and continued up the trail。 I had enough to worry about； without her yammering around the pit and asking questions。
Captain Mack； who had made all the arrangements for the Belle Glade pitting； was talking earnestly to a Florida trooper when I reached the parking area。 The trooper's state patrol car was parked directly behind a new convertible with a Dade County plate。 The right door of the convertible was open； and a pretty blonde woman sat in the front seat。 Her face was pale； and she had her eyes closed； breathing deeply through her open mouth。 There was a wet spot in the sand outside the door。 I supposed the girl had watched a couple of fights inside the pit and got sick as a consequence。 Not many city women have the stomach for watching cockfights。
The pit was surrounded on four sides by a green canvas panorama made from army surplus latrine screens。 There were about thirty cars in the parking area； not counting the trucks。 I set down my gaff case and coop in the sparse shade of a melaleuca tree； and leaned against a parked Plymouth； watching Captain Mack argue with the trooper。 Captain Mack shrugged wearily； took his wallet out of his hip pocket； and handed two bills to the trooper。 Through a gap in the canvas wall； they went inside the pit。 Although cockfighting is legal in Florida； betting is not； so Captain Mack had been forced to pay out some protection money。
There was excited shouting from inside the pit； followed by several coarse curses； and then the voices subsided。 Mr。 Ed Middleton's baritone carried well as he announced the winning cock。
〃The winner is the Madigan！ One minute and thirty…one seconds in the third pitting！〃
Again there were curses； followed by the derisive sound of laughter。 I lit a cigarette； took my notebook out of my shirt pocket； and wrote the essential info