spare thy bald crown, else wouldst thou ne'er
cheat customer again. But as for this same knave Robin Hood, I go
straightway to seek him, and if I do not score his knave's pate, cut my
staff into fagots and call me woman." So saying, he gathered himself
together to depart.

"Nay," quoth the landlord, standing in front of him and holding out his
arms like a gooseherd driving his flock, for money made him bold, "thou
goest not till thou hast paid me my score."

"But did not he pay thee?"

"Not so much as one farthing; and ten good shillings' worth of ale have
ye drunk this day. Nay, I say, thou goest not away without paying me,
else shall our good Sheriff know of it."

"But nought have I to pay thee with, good fellow," quoth the Tinker.

"'Good fellow' not me," said the landlord. "Good fellow am I not when
it cometh to lose ten shillings! Pay me that thou owest me in broad
money, or else leave thy coat and bag and hammer; yet, I wot they are
not worth ten shillings, and I shall lose thereby. Nay, an thou
stirrest, I have a great dog within and I will loose him upon thee.
Maken, open thou the door and let forth Brian if this fellow stirs one
step."

"Nay," quoth the Tinker--for, by roaming the country, he had learned
what dogs were--"take thou what thou wilt have, and let me depart in
peace, and may a murrain go with thee. But oh, landlord! An I catch yon
scurvy varlet, I swear he shall pay full with usury for that he hath
had!"

So saying, he strode away toward the forest, talking to himself, while
the landlord and his worthy dame and Maken stood looking after him, and
laughed when he had fairly gone.

"Robin and I stripped yon ass of his pack main neatly," quoth the
landlord.

Now it happened about this time that Robin Hood was going through the
forest to Fosse Way, to see what was to be seen there, for the moon was
full and the night gave promise of being bright. In his hand he carried
his stout oaken staff, and at his side hung his bugle horn. As thus he
walked up a forest path, whistling, down another path came the Tinker,
muttering to himself and shaking his head like an angry bull; and so, at
a sudden bend, they met sharply face to face. Each stood still for a
time, and then Robin spoke:

"Halloa, my sweet bird," said he, laughing merrily, "how likest thou
thine ale? Wilt not sing to me another song?"

The Tinker said nothing at first but stood looking at Robin with a grim
face. "Now," quoth he