David Lannarck, Midget / An Adventure Story

by George S. Harney

Less than a month ago David Lannarck had traveled this same road. Then he was amazed at the shifting changes, the glory of its loneliness, and the utter absence of the curious and gawking. In his decade of travel he never encountered the land of his dreams, the wide open spaces that reached from here to the horizon and free of human beings. His business led him to the congested spots on the earth. If and when he traveled with a circus he spent his spare hours in the animal tent. Here he was not taunted with verbal gibes. Maybe this was his reason for liking animals. Always, he dreamed of the day when he could own dogs, horses, or any living thing that didn't smirk or titter.

And now, on this fine October afternoon, all past hopes and dreams had come true; his foot was in the doorway to an earthly heaven. He was the owner of a ranch (maybe Ralph Gaynor would condemn the investment) and it had length and breadth and the desirable loneliness. He was the owner of a grand little horse (maybe Jess and the gang of the circus would scorn his size and color). He was the sole owner of a herd of cattle (surely the experts and maybe the general public would classify them as scrubs and yellow-hammers) and best of all, he had acquired a few understanding friends, true and loyal. During the time of the long trip back to their horses he was in deep thought. His meditations did not concern finances, nor that other pressing question: when will this depression end? Truly he was trying to muster arguments and reasons whereby he could persuade his mentor to move the scrub yearlings, now quartered at the Cliffs, up to the stables and corrals with the rest of the cattle.

For this midget, David Lannarck, was very human. Possessed of an alert and active mind, he had, throughout adulthood, ever been classified as a child. He would use his recent accomplishments and present status to frustrate that persistent impression. Secretly but in all details he planned the coup.

First, he would persuade Landy to round up those yearlings in a group with the rest of the cattle; second, on the basis that a general picture of the enterprise was sorely needed to bolster his financial standing, he would have a photographer present, taking views of all phases of the adventure; thirdly, and most important, he, Davy, would be astride Peaches, mingling with the several cow hands against a background of milling cattle, either in the wide open spaces or in the corrals at the stables. Copies of these pictures he would send to all his old associates in vaudeville or in the circus business. Particularly, he would send several copies to Ralph Gaynor, president of the Dollar Savings, hoping that one of them might be displayed where the general public could see that a midget, a former resident, was active with other adults in the most fascinating business in America. He was not seeking to establish financial credit; that he had, in substantial deposits and other well known securities, but he wanted to get away from the persistent notion of classifying midgets as children.

Meanwhile Adine and Landy, having exhausted merry quips and scornful comparisons of the past and future management of the Bar-O, now gave serious exchanges of opinions as to who would make a suitable tenant for the property that was to be built up to a going concern. Landy mentioned the names of a dozen old-time cattle men, now unemployed and surely available. None of these suited the notions of the young lady whose persistent idea was building up the neighborhood. She, too, mentioned the names of many, few of them known to the old timer. Finally the girl mentioned the name of Maddy's benefactor, young Goff, now residing across the state line. "He's in cramped quarters over there, I understand," said the girl casually.

"He's the best man in the deestrict," said Landy thoughtfully. "But he's got the same problems we have. He's got critters to feed, en he can't run two places when the snow is here. I hope, however, that Davy here can make him a permanent offer that will move him at once.

"But we've got to git them yearlin's outa the Cliffs en up to the stables," Landy announced emphatically. "We can't haul hay, wean calves, en be traipsin' all over ten sections to feed a few critters. We've got to bunch 'em en show 'em that we mean business."

"That's right, Landy," was Davy's prompt approval. "Can we get that young Goff tomorrow? Is there a good photographer in Adot? When can we haul the hay?"

"Thar ye go crowdin' the question chute," complained Landy as the party arrived at the filling station. "Tomorry we've got to be in Adot. We've got a deed to record; got to buy some ground feed, if them calves are to be weaned; got to hire a lot of exter hay hands en enough he'p to corral them yearlin's. En besides all that," he cautioned, "we've got to go to the register's office en git a substitute brand, fer old Hulls has shorely carried off the old irons outa pure cussedness. Kin ye he'p us tomorry?" His question was directed to Adine Lough as the two got out of the car.

"Yes, I've enlisted for the duration. I am anxious to learn if the new management is an improvement over the old. Recent happenings have created doubts. Come over in the morning; I want to see the finish."