“I don’t want to be the sheriff,” Ross muttered.
“Oh, forget it, will you?” Brad demanded, losing patience. “A Cub is supposed to be cooperative.”
The filming of the scene began. Still grumbling at the role which had been thrust upon him, Ross took his place at the head of the picnic table.
As the camera began to grind, Brad, from the nearby thicket, shot an arrow. His first missed the table completely. On the second try, however, it dropped squarely amid the dishes.
“Whence came this?” Ross demanded, speaking the lines which had been assigned him.
He picked up the arrow, and removing the scroll, read the message.
“‘Thou didst give the prize to Robin Hood,’” he read aloud. And he added with gruff hostility: “Wait until I lay my hands on that sneaking coward!”
“Cut!” called Mr. Holloway. “Well done, boys!”
The Cubs praised Ross, for he had spoken the lines of the sheriff naturally. Also, his sullen manner had suited the character perfectly.
“You make a swell sheriff,” Red praised him.