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.
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