ng blow,
smote the other so sorely upon the crown that down he fell as though he
would never move again.

Then the people shouted so loud that folk came running from all about to
see what was the ado; while Little John leaped down from the stand and
gave the staff back to him that had lent it to him. And thus ended the
famous bout between Little John and Eric o' Lincoln of great renown.

But now the time had come when those who were to shoot with the longbow
were to take their places, so the people began flocking to the butts
where the shooting was to be. Near the target, in a good place, sat the
Sheriff upon a raised dais, with many gentlefolk around him. When the
archers had taken their places, the herald came forward and proclaimed
the rules of the game, and how each should shoot three shots, and to him
that should shoot the best the prize of two fat steers was to belong. A
score of brave shots were gathered there, and among them some of the
keenest hands at the longbow in Lincoln and Nottinghamshire; and among
them Little John stood taller than all the rest. "Who is yon stranger
clad all in scarlet?" said some, and others answered, "It is he that
hath but now so soundly cracked the crown of Eric o' Lincoln." Thus the
people talked among themselves, until at last it reached even the
Sheriff's ears.

And now each man stepped forward and shot in turn; but though each shot
well, Little John was the best of all, for three times he struck the
clout, and once only the length of a barleycorn from the center. "Hey
for the tall archer!" shouted the crowd, and some among them shouted,
"Hey for Reynold Greenleaf!" for this was the name that Little John had
called himself that day.

Then the Sheriff stepped down from the raised seat and came to where the
archers stood, while all doffed their caps that saw him coming. He
looked keenly at Little John but did not know him, though he said, after
a while, "How now, good fellow, methinks there is that about thy face
that I have seen erewhile."

"Mayhap it may be so," quoth Little John, "for often have I seen Your
Worship." And, as he spoke, he looked steadily into the Sheriff's eyes
so that the latter did not suspect who he was.

"A brave blade art thou, good friend," said the Sheriff, "and I hear
that thou hast well upheld the skill of Nottinghamshire against that of
Lincoln this day. What may be thy name, good fellow?"

"Men do call me Reynold Greenleaf, Your Worship,"