served Gunga Din over in the pasture beneath the one big oak tree in the whole township. He stood there quiet, with drooping ears, his huge body almost touching the tree's lower limbs. Nearby, the ponies were grazing.
Uncle Abner peered hard at the tree.
"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed. "Gosh all hemlock, if there ain't two men in the tree!"
He cocked the gun and went forward slowly, followed by the boys. At twenty yards he was hailed by a voice from amid the branches.
"Don't be backward. In the name of the devil get us away from this infernal brute before he kills us. We know the jig's up an' we're willin' to lie down—only run this brute off. We're frozen stiff and almost dead. Can't you drive him away?"
Uncle Abner began to see light.
"Oh, yes," he said, dryly, "you might as well give up. The evidence is still tied to the fence yonder. Good thing for you it's Kansas and not Texas. I reckon, though, you can’t be accused of elephant stealing.
"John, you jump on one of those bosses and tell Robinson's we got a couple of hoss thieves treed and want 'em to bring their guns and help take them in."
Uncle Abner turned to the men in the tree. "What are you staying there for? Why don't you come down?"
"Why don't we!" roared a voice from the tree. The owner digressed for a moment from narrative to a more forcible and emotional manner of expression. Thus relieved, he went on:
"We comes ridin' along and this old brute takes after us. The faster we goes, the faster he goes. Purty soon he ketches up and with his trunk yanks us off the hosses and throws us up on his back—none too easy, either. We slide off, but it's no good. The crazy brute nabs us again before we can make our feet. After he gits tired playin', he breaks for the tree—and it's mighty cheerful we are at a chance ter climb, stranger. Eh? Yes, we tried to slide from here, too, but the lop-eared pirate is as ugly as ever. We're plumb played out—no fight left in us. If you'll get us out of his reach, you can do what you please."
Uncle Abner stood a moment, reflecting.
