David Lannarck, Midget: An Adventure StoryHarney, George S.
General
David Lannarck, Midget: An Adventure Story
Harney, George S.
Adventure stories; Circus -- Fiction; Western stories
"That gal and I have surely had a busy day. We've certainly upset some
precedents, broken some rules, and maybe some laws. Your brother here
was a full participant, a co-conspirator, and was awarded the Medal of
Intrigue by Mister Potter, when the meeting closed. But excuse me,"
said the now jovial midget as he walked away. "I just can't look at
those baking-powder biscuits without grabbing one; I'm that wolfish."
During the meal, Davy invited Landy to tell of the day's happenings.
"Yer new boarder here bought the Bar-O ranch--trouble en all," said
Landy quietly. "En he's plannin' to promote the circus business by
raisin' a lot more lions, tigers, hyenas, en sich. He's got a good
start now, en he plans a glorious finish."
The news electrified the Gillises. It provoked much discussion and
required many explanations. It allowed Davy time to eat a hearty meal.
Finishing, he pushed back his chair to state some final conditions.
"And I'll not complete the final contract, not pay down a cent and
throw up the whole thing, unless Mister Landy Spencer, here seated,
pledges that he will join in with me in working the thing out to a
final victory. No, I don't mean that he's to pay out anything, I'll
pay all, but he's to say that he will stay with me, that he'll manage
the thing, plan production, hire the help, and get things going. And
we'll divide the profits. This depression can't last. Already the wise
ones are hearing the death rattle and last gasp. But it will take some
time to recover and we must be ready when the bulge comes. Maybe there
are some old cows over there that Landy says are dear at ten dollars a
head. There are some unweaned calves, and a few unbranded yearlings
that will just about pay the cost of their roundup. But that's the
foundation on which we are to build. What do you say, podner? Are you
with me?"
"In yer listin' of assets, ye haven't invoiced Maizie," said Landy.
"Early this afternoon, I heard ye pricin' her to Logan at a thousand
dollars a week. En ye haven't catalogued Hulls en the bulls, mebbe
they're wuth more than all the rest. Shore I'll he'p ye. Hit'll be a
pleasure to hear ye try to mesmerize Maizie like ye did Logan, tellin'
her of this Coony Island place en the fortune tellers. We'll go over
thar in the mornin' early en I'll watch ye hypnotize her en Hulls,
like ye did Logan. 'Course, if they're gone, that's our loss. We'll
invoice the remnants en leavin's, en take a fresh start."
Davy was early to bed but his rest was broken in trying to picture the
probable conduct of two persons he had never seen. In his dreams, old
Hulls and his threatening gun was a commonplace figure. But back of
him, and in command, was the garish image of a black-haired,
copper-complexioned virago, whose imperious death-dealing edicts
recalled his early readings of Sir Walter and his vivid picturings of
Helen, wife of Rob Roy, in her judgments of the fate of a common
enemy. He was glad that daylight came to dispel the mental mirage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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