tell him. You have always been a good boy, haven't you?"

Young Robin hung his head.

"No," he said slowly, with his brow wrinkled up, his head hanging
and one foot scraping softly at the mossy grass. "No, not always."

Little John burst into a tremendous roar of laughter, and began to
stamp about, with the result that young Robin made a dash at him
and tried vainly to climb up and clap his hand over the great
fellow's lips.

"Don't--don't tell," cried the boy.

"Ran at me--only yesterday," cried Little John--"and began to
thrash me in a passion."

"Don't tell tales out of school, Little John," cried Robin Hood,
laughing. "There, Rob, you must forgive him; we're none
of-us-perfect. Master Sheriff, and if your little fellow had been
quite so, I don't think that we should all, to a man here, have
loved him half so well. But come, after his confession, I think
you will grant one thing, and that is, that in spite of his having
spent a year in the outlaws' camp, he is as honest as the day."

"Nothing could make my boy Robin tell a lie," said the Sheriff
proudly. "But, sir, I have come humbly to you now. Glad even to
be your prisoner, so that I might once more see my child."

"My prisoner if you had come amongst us with your posse of armed