“Who are you to ask me my business?” asked the other roughly.
“I am one of the King’s Rangers,” replied Robin, “set here to guard his deer against curious looking strollers.”
“Curious looking I may be,” returned the other, “but no stroller. Hark ye, since you are a Ranger, I must e’en demand your service. I am on the King’s business and seek an outlaw. Men call him Robin Hood. Are you one of his men?”—eyeing him keenly.
“Nay, God forbid!” said Robin; “but what want you with him?”
“That is another tale. But I’d rather meet with that proud outlaw than forty good pounds of the King’s money.”
Robin now saw how the land lay.
“Come with me, good yeoman,” said he, “and belike, a little later in the day, I can show you Robin’s haunts when he is at home. Meanwhile let us have some pastime under the greenwood tree. Let us first try the mastery at shooting arrows.”
The other agreed, and they cut down two willow wands of a summer’s growth that grew beneath a brier, and set them up at a distance of threescore yards.
“Lead on, good fellow,” quoth Robin. “The first shot to you.”
“Nay, by my faith,” said the other, “I will follow your lead.”