he sudden
doing. But ere the yeoman had gone far the Sheriff roused himself.
"After him!" he roared in a mighty voice; for he knew now who it was
with whom he had been talking, and wondered that he had not known him
before.

Little John heard the Sheriff's words, and seeing that he could not hope
to reach the woodlands before they would be upon him, he stopped and
turned suddenly, holding his bow as though he were about to shoot.
"Stand back!" cried he fiercely. "The first man that cometh a foot
forward, or toucheth finger to bowstring, dieth!"

At these words the Sheriff's men stood as still as stocks, for they knew
right well that Little John would be as good as his word, and that to
disobey him meant death. In vain the Sheriff roared at them, calling
them cowards, and urging them forward in a body; they would not budge an
inch, but stood and watched Little John as he moved slowly away toward
the forest, keeping his gaze fixed upon them. But when the Sheriff saw
his enemy thus slipping betwixt his fingers he grew mad with his rage,
so that his head swam and he knew not what he did. Then of a sudden he
turned his horse's head, and plunging his spurs into its sides he gave
a great shout, and, rising in his stirrups, came down upon Little John
like the wind. Then Little John raised his deadly bow and drew the gray
goose feather to his cheek. But alas for him! For, ere he could loose
the shaft, the good bow that had served him so long, split in his hands,
and the arrow fell harmless at his feet. Seeing what had happened, the
Sheriff's men raised a shout, and, following their master, came rushing
down upon Little John. But the Sheriff was ahead of the others, and
so caught up with the yeoman before he reached the shelter of the
woodlands, then leaning forward he struck a mighty blow. Little John
ducked and the Sheriff's sword turned in his hand, but the flat of the
blade struck the other upon the head and smote him down, stunned and
senseless.

"Now, I am right glad," said the Sheriff, when the men came up and found
that Little John was not dead, "that I have not slain this man in my
haste! I would rather lose five hundred pounds than have him die thus
instead of hanging, as such a vile thief should do. Go, get some water
from yonder fountain, William, and pour it over his head."

The man did as he was bidden, and presently Little John opened his eyes
and looked around him, all dazed and bewildered with the stun of the