Dick laughed scornfully. "I thought you would. Go now, and be quick about it. I'd rather not be seen within half a mile of you!"
CHAPTER XXIII
A Merry Man's Magazine
In the mind of the Captain of Foxenby there lingered pleasantly the riddles he had heard at the Robin Hood concert. Some of them would, he thought, make a bright addition to the fun columns of The Rooke's House Rag, but it was necessary first to get the author's permission to print them.
While crossing the yard with Roger he caught sight of Robin Arkness, and gripped that mercurial youngster by the arm.
"Say, kid, you're a dandy riddle-maker. It'll be decent of you if you'll let me put a few of those Foxenby conundrums in the next number of The Rag."
Robin coloured, took off his cap, and nervously ran his fingers through his yellow hair.
"They weren't my riddles, Forge," he stammered. "I got 'em from—from somewhere."
"Not from a book," said Forge. "They were slap-bang up-to-date stuff, poking excellent fun at us. Really, now, you don't mind if I publish a few of them, do you?"
There was an awkward silence. Robin cast two or three quick glances at Roger, who frowned back at him and shook his head. In this action he was detected by Dick, who looked from one to the other in dawning comprehension.