These matters, instigated and brought about by one Master Robin o' th' Hood, cried aloud for summary vengeance.
The Sheriff doubled and trebled the reward offered for his head, mentioning him above all others who were known to aid and abet him. Little John ranked next in point of infamous merit in the Sheriff's reckoning, for Monceux remembered his golden plate.
The people of Nottingham, hearing continually of this pother, fell a-chattering between themselves, and ere a week was out Monceux's reward of a hundred golden pieces for the head of Robin Hood was the one theme of conversation in the city.
No one identified him with Robin of Locksley—that brave misguided youth being so entirely dead to their minds—and he was variously named as Hood, Robin Hood, Captain Hood, and Master Robin.
A travelling tinker came at length upon the talk of the town. He had been sitting on the bench without the "Sign of the Sixteen Does," dozing and drinking, and at last seeking to do both at once.
Mine host stood near by, discussing the eternal Robin.
"Folk do say that Master Monceux has sent into Lincoln for more men-at-arms and horses, and that when he has these to hand he will soon scourge Captain Hood from our forest."
"Of whom speak you?" asked the tinker, suddenly waking up.
"Of this Robin of the Greenwood," said the innkeeper, "but you will never earn the Sheriff's hundred pieces!"
Then the tinker arose upon his dignity, and eyed the innkeeper reproachfully.