e earrings, and a big
ostrich fan. Never a word of English, mind you! She'd just wave the
fan to the entrance and inner glories where Tulu Garrat, Tony's wife,
would read palms, or the crystal ball, and take the money."

Davy, too, was getting a bit anxious. He was running out of details.
He glanced at the phone, hoping for relief. None came. He rambled on.

"If I ran this fortune-telling dump, I'd lift it out of the
ten-twent'-thirt' class, to an even smacker--maybe two. I'd give 'em a
written reading with 'a hunch' in it. They all play hunches down
there. Hoss racing, stock market, numbers rackets, and such. They'd
play my hunches. If they win, I'd have wide advertisement; if they
lose, nothing said.

"Off hand, I'd say the racket was good for a 'grand' a week. Maizie
would get fifty, Tony and his wife a hundred smackers, another fifty
for the concession. In ten weeks, I could pay for the Bar-O and
have--" The telephone rang. "If that's for me," said the little man to
Aaron Logan, "get on that extension and listen to the story of a
misspent life, for I'll try to get him to tell it."

As the conversation was both spoken and heard, both are here given.

"Hello, hello. Yes, this is David Lannarck. Hello, Ralph. This is your
midget friend Davy. I'm in Adot--yes, that's what I said--what they
all say.... A dot on what? It's out of Cheyenne--a good ways out. But
I want to do business as of Cheyenne. I want you to send a Denver
draft to The First National Bank at Cheyenne for five thousand
dollars, to arrive there before the eighteenth of October."

The phone was working splendidly; even those without an earpiece could
hear the over-production.

"This is a fine time to separate a bank from assets. What are you
buying? Blue sky or a phony gold mine?"

"Neither one," said Davy promptly. "It's a ranch--with an old man on
it--with a gun, defying all comers."

"Why, I thought the old cattle wars were all over," came the reply. "I
suppose, on account of your size, you hope to slip through the guard
line."

"Naw," replied Davy, "it really doesn't matter whether the old man
gets off or stays on. It's ten sections. If things brighten up a bit,
it looks worth the money."

"Ten sections?" came the astonished inquiry. "How will you ever see it
all--you with short legs?"

"Why, I've got a hoss," said Davy proudly, "I've got the finest hoss
west of the Big River. He can do tricks too. By spring I can have him
doing stunts