The Giraffe Didn’t Have Any Bridle On—and No Mane to Hold On To.
Then we went back to the house to play golf, and the Michigan man sent some servants into the woods with a strecher to bring in the remains of the cowboy.
As we dismounted at the veranda, Pa lit a cigarette and said to the man, “You certainly have all the comforts of a home here, and all the facilities for enjoyment that anybody has outside of a traveling menagerie, except draw poker.”
“We can fix you all right on the draw poker,” said the Michigan man.
“Boy, bring the chips and the cards, and let me know when they find the remains of Mr. Cowboy,” and they began to play poker, and I went out to see them milk a Jersey cow.
CHAPTER XXII.
Pa and the Boy Have a Series of Ups and Downs—Pa Plays Poker with the Michigan Man and Loses All His Money—Pa Puts Up His Airship and Loses—Pa and the Boy Start for Hamburg—The Boy Makes a King’s Crown Out of Tin—The Boy Tells How They Escaped from the Negro Tribes in Africa.
It seems to be just one series of ups and downs with Pa and I. One day we are kings and things, and the next day we are just things and not kings, or ninespots, or anything in the deck, except it’s Jacks.
That short stay at the ranch of the Michigan man in Africa, which seemed like being set down from hades in Darkest Africa to Heaven in America, terminated just as everything else does with us.