“Tradition says he lived his roving, careless, jolly life until he became a very old man.”
“And how did he die? Was he executed?”
“Oh, no. Being somewhat ill, he trusted himself to the prioress of Kirkley to be bled, and she treacherously let him bleed to death.”
“Do you believe there really was a Robin Hood, professor?”
“Why not?”
“Well, you know the story has been doubted by students of history, many of whom assert that the story of his life is purely legendary.”
“Hum! haw! Haw! hum!” coughed Zenas. “Some of these students of history are cranks and doubters on principle. They think they impress people with their great knowledge, acumen and judgment by doubting everything there is any chance of doubting. You can doubt anything that happened say a century ago if you wish to. No matter how strong the proofs may be, you can say they were manufactured. Do either of you boys doubt the story of Paul Revere’s ride?”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Dick.
“I should rise to remark that we don’t,” burst from Brad.
“Well, I once heard a man, an educated man, a scholar, declaring that the whole yarn had been manufactured out of moonshine. He didn’t deny there had lived such a person as Paul Revere, for Paul Revere’s descendants still live; but he insisted and maintained that the tale of his midnight ride had been elaborated and cooked up to please those who wished to make a hero of a very commonplace man.”