t parts of the wood had stalked and run to earth the
same stag. Little John had already drawn his bow when Stuteley espied
him. At once the little esquire called out that no one had the right to
shoot such a deer but Robin of Locksley, his master. Little John scoffed
at this, and flew his arrow; but between them they had startled the stag
and it bounded away. Little John was furious with Stuteley, and the
noise of their quarrelling brought Robin again between them. This time
young Robin spoke his mind to Little John, saying that he was sorry
that Master John Little Nailor had ever come into their free band.

"'Tis not free at all!" cried Little John, raging. "'Tis the most
galling of service. Here I may not do this nor that. I'll stay no more
in Barnesdale, but try my fortunes with your foes."

He flung himself away from them, and when the roll was called that
night, the name of Little John evoked no response.

Robin was vexed at this, and saw that they must come to some agreement
if they would keep the company alive. He talked with Warrenton and Much
and some of the others, and they all pressed him to assume the captaincy
by right of his skill with the bow. They decided between them to have a
full council on the morrow and come to a decision: for without a captain
they were as a ship without a rudder.

The early morning found Robin walking thoughtfully in the greenwood. He
hoped that he might discover Little John returning to them, repentant.
He had taken a strange liking to this great giant of a man.

As he walked, he drew insensibly toward the highroad; but had not nearly
reached it when he came upon a herd of deer feeding peacefully in a
glade. Robin got his bow ready. Before he could fit a shaft to it,
however, one of the finest beasts fell suddenly, pierced by a clever
arrow.

Immediately he thought that Little John had indeed returned; and was
about to emerge from his hiding-place, when a handsome little page ran
gleefully towards the dying buck from the other side of the glade. This
was plainly the archer; and Robin, after a swift glance of surprise,
moved out upon him. "How dare you shoot the King's beasts, stripling?"
asked Robin, very severely.

"I have as much right to shoot them as the King himself," answered the
page, haughtily, and by no means afraid. "And who are you who dares to
question me?"

His voice stirred Robin strangely; yet he could fit no memory properly
to it. The lad was very handsom