Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden (best book series to read txt) 📗

from the trees, but gave no sign of having seen him. He neither slackened nor quickened his pace, but jogged forward merrily, whistling as he came, and beating time by punching holes in the dusty road with the stout pike-staff in his hand.

The curious look of the fellow arrested Robin’s attention, and he decided to stop and talk with him. The fellow was bare-legged and bare-armed, and wore a long shift of a shirt, fastened with a belt. About his neck hung a stout, bulging bag, which was buckled by a good piece of leather thong.

He had three hats upon his head, Together sticked fast, He cared neither for the wind nor wet, In lands where’er he past.

The fellow looked so fat and hearty, and the wallet on his shoulder seemed so well filled, that Robin thought within himself,

“Ha! this is a lucky beggar for me! If any of them have money, this is the chap, and, marry, he should share it with us poorer bodies.”

So he flourished his own stick and planted himself in the traveler’s path.

“Sirrah, fellow!” quoth he; “whither away so fast? Tarry, for I would have speech with ye!”

The beggar made as though he heard him not, and kept straight on with his faring.

“Tarry, I say, fellow!” said Robin again; “for there’s a way to make folks obey!”

“Nay, ‘tis not so,” answered the beggar, speaking for the first time; “I obey no man in all England, not even the King himself. So let me pass on my way, for ‘tis growing late, and I have still far to go before I can care for my stomach’s good.”

“Now, by my troth,” said Robin, once more getting in front of the other, “I see well by your fat countenance, that you lack not for good food, while I go hungry. Therefore you must lend me of your means till we meet again, so that I may hie to the nearest tavern.”

“I have no money to lend,” said the beggar crossly. “Methinks you are as young a man as I, and as well able to earn a supper. So go your way, and I’ll go mine. If you fast till you get aught out of me, you’ll go hungry for the next twelvemonth.”

“Not while I have a stout stick to thwack your saucy bones!” cried Robin. “Stand and deliver, I say, or I’ll dust your shirt for you; and if that will not teach you manners, then we’ll see what a broad arrow can do with a beggar’s skin!”

The beggar smiled, and answered boast with boast. “Come on with your staff, fellow! I care no more for it than for a pudding stick. And as for your pretty bow—that for it!”

And with amazing quickness, he swung his pike-staff around and knocked Robin’s bow clean out of his hand, so that his fingers smarted with pain. Robin danced and tried to bring his own staff into action; but the beggar never gave him a chance. Biff! whack! came the pike-staff, smiting him soundly and beating down his guard.

There were but two things to do; either stand there and take a sound drubbing, or beat a hasty retreat. Robin chose the latter—as you or I would probably have done—and scurried back into the wood, blowing his horn as he went.

“Fie, for shame, man!” jeered the bold beggar after him. “What is your haste? We had but just begun. Stay and take your money, else you will never be able to pay your reckoning at the tavern!”

But Robin answered him never a word. He fled up hill and down dale till he met three of his men who were running up in answer to his summons.

“What is wrong?” they asked.

“‘Tis a saucy beggar,” said Robin, catching his breath. “He is back there on the highroad with the hardest stick I’ve met in a good many days. He gave me no chance to reason with him, the dirty scamp!”

The men—Much and two of the widow’s sons—could scarce conceal their mirth at the thought of Robin Hood running from a beggar. Nathless, they kept grave faces, and asked their leader if he was hurt.

“Nay,” he replied, “but I shall speedily feel better if you will fetch me that same beggar and let me have a fair chance at him.”

So the three yeomen made haste and came out upon the highroad and followed after the beggar, who was going smoothly along his way again, as though he were at peace with all the world.

“The easiest way to settle this beggar,” said Much, “is to surprise him. Let us cut through yon neck of woods and come upon him before he is aware.”

The others agreed to this, and the three were soon close upon their prey.

“Now!” quoth Much; and the other two sprang quickly upon the beggar’s back and wrested his pike-staff from his hand. At the same moment Much drew his dagger and flashed it before the fellow’s breast.

“Yield you, my man!” cried he; “for a friend of ours awaits you in the wood, to teach you how to fight properly.”

“Give me a fair chance,” said the beggar valiantly, “and I’ll fight you all at once.”

But they would not listen to him. Instead, they turned him about and began to march him toward the forest. Seeing that it was useless to struggle, the beggar began to parley.

“Good my masters,” quoth he, “why use this violence? I will go with ye safe and quietly, if ye insist, but if ye will set me free I’ll make it worth your while. I’ve a hundred pounds in my bag here. Let me go my way, and ye shall have all that’s in the bag.”

The three outlaws took council together at this.

“What say you?” asked Much of the others. “Our master will be more glad to see this beggar’s wallet than his sorry face.”

The other two agreed, and the little party came to a halt and loosed hold of the beggar.

“Count out your gold speedily, friend,” said Much. There was a brisk wind blowing, and the beggar turned about to face it, directly they had unhanded him.

“It shall be done, gossips,” said he. “One of you lend me your cloak and we will spread it upon the ground and put the wealth upon it.”

The cloak was handed him, and he placed his wallet upon it as though it were very heavy indeed. Then he crouched down and fumbled with the leather fastenings. The outlaws also bent over and watched the proceeding closely, lest he should hide some of the money on his person. Presently he got the bag unfastened and plunged his hands into it. Forth from it he drew—not shining gold—but handfuls of fine meal which he dashed into the eager faces of the men around him. The wind aided him in this, and soon there arose a blinding cloud which filled the eyes, noses, and mouths of the three outlaws till they could scarcely see or