roduct," rejoined
Davy stoutly. "We will raise some feed, buy a few sheep and from there
on, watch us grow! But early in this venture, I must get me a pony--a
pinto, preferably--small enough for me to ride and big enough to go
places. Then I'm all set. Hi, Lew!" The midget had climbed up on the
wheel of the ticket wagon and was tapping on the window. "Cash my
check for three hundred dollars and meet my podner, Mister Welborn."

"Your partner in what?" queried the accommodating Lew, as he slid back
the window and began to count out the cash. "What's your racket now,
Prince? Have you hooked up with Ben-a-Mundi in that Crystal Readings
graft, or is it a short-change racket?" Lew aided Davy up to the shelf
where he could sign the check. "Better look out, Mister Welborn, your
partner here is a slicker--a regular city grafter. He skins his
friends just to keep in practice. Paying you this little lump is just
a bait. Later, he'll spring the trap for the big money." Lew slipped a
rubber band around the money and handed it to Davy.

"You had better look 'em over for counterfeit bills," retorted Davy as
he handed the money to Welborn. "This bird puts out more counterfeit
money than he does genuine. And say, Lew, you and Jess think of me
when you are huddled around the stove this winter with a lot of
razorbacks--me out in the great open spaces feeling fine, and clear of
mobs and nitwits. You fellows will have the razorbacks throw another
basket of cobs in the old smoky stove, and I and Mr. Welborn here,
will be toasting our feet before a log fire in the big fireplace--"

"Oh ho, it's that ranch thing that you have been chinning about for
the last five years," chuckled the treasurer of the Great
International. "How many calves will you brand next year? And where's
your chaps and your spurs? And say, that three hundred won't buy your
bridle, let alone a ranch and a hoss. You remember Carter, don't you,
Prince? The broncho-buster that we had in the grand opening last year.
Why his saddle cost an even grand and he paid fifty per for his
Stetsons. Where's your outfit, kid?"

"Why my outfit is still in the supply house in Omaha," countered the
midget. "I am to take it out when you and Jess come back through here
with the Adkins-Helstrom Great Congress of Living Wonders. I'll meet
you here on that date in my full regalia. Anyhow, much obliged, Lew,
and Mr. Welborn I will help you out with the car and trailer so that
you can load out