hrough
the air. With another he tapped Eric on the head; and, with a third
broad swing, ere the other could recover himself, he swept him clear off
the stage, much as you would brush a fly off the window pane.

Now the people danced and shouted and made so much ado that the
shop-keepers left their stalls and others came running from every
direction. The victory of the queer beggar made him immensely popular.
Eric had been a great bully, and many had suffered defeat and insult
at his hands. So the ragged stranger found money and food and drink
everywhere at his disposal, and he feasted right comfortably till the
afternoon.

Then a long bow contest came on, and to it the beggar went with some of
his new friends. It was held in the same arena that Robin had formerly
entered; and again the Sheriff and lords and ladies graced the scene
with their presence, while the people crowded to their places.

When the archers had stepped forward, the herald rose and proclaimed the
rules of the game: how that each man should shoot three shots, and to
him who shot best the prize of a yoke of fat steers should belong.
A dozen keen-eyed bowmen were there, and among them some of the best
fellows in the Forester's and Sheriff's companies. Down at the end of
the line towered the tall beggar-man, who must needs twang a bow-string
with the best of them.

The Sheriff noted his queer figure and asked: "Who is that ragged
fellow?"

"'Tis he that hath but now so soundly cracked the crown of Eric of
Lincoln," was the reply.

The shooting presently began, and the targets soon showed a fine
reckoning. Last of all came the beggar's turn.

"By your leave," he said loudly, "I'd like it well to shoot with any
other man here present at a mark of my own placing." And he strode down
the lists with a slender peeled sapling which he stuck upright in the
ground. "There," said he, "is a right good mark. Will any man try it?"

But not an archer would risk his reputation on so small a target.

Whereupon the beggar drew his bow with seeming carelessness and split
the wand with his shaft.

"Long live the beggar!" yelled the bystanders.

The Sheriff swore a full great oath, and said: "This man is the best
archer that ever yet I saw." And he beckoned to him, and asked him: "How
now, good fellow, what is your name, and in what country were you born?"

"In Holderness I was born," the man replied; "men call me Reynold
Greenleaf."

"You are a sturdy fello