“Alas!” quoth Robin, “I would that I had as little money by me as thou hast, for this day I fear that Robin Hood will get every groat of my wealth.”

Then the other looked at Robin and winked cunningly.  Quoth he, “I tell thee, friend, that I have nigh as much by me as thou hast, but it is hidden so that never a knave in Sherwood could find it.”

“Thou dost surely jest,” quoth Robin.  “How could one hide so much as two hundred pounds upon his person?”

“Now, as thou art so honest a fellow, and, withal, so much younger than I am, I will tell thee that which I have told to no man in all the world before, and thus thou mayst learn never again to do such a foolish thing as to trust to beggar’s garb to guard thee against Robin Hood.  Seest thou these clogs upon my feet?”

“Yea,” quoth Robin, laughing, “truly, they are large enough for any man to see, even were his sight as foggy as that of Peter Patter, who never could see when it was time to go to work.”

“Peace, friend,” said the Corn Engrosser, “for this is no matter for jesting.  The soles of these clogs are not what they seem to be, for each one is a sweet little box; and by twisting the second nail from the toe, the upper of the shoe and part of the sole lifts up like a lid, and in the spaces within are fourscore and ten bright golden pounds in each shoe, all wrapped in hair, to keep them from clinking and so telling tales of themselves.”

When the Corn Engrosser had told this, Robin broke into a roar of laughter and, laying his hands upon the bridle rein, stopped the sad-looking nag.  “Stay, good friend,” quoth he, between bursts of merriment, “thou art the slyest old fox that e’er I saw in all my life!  —­In the soles of his shoon, quotha!—­If ever I trust a poor-seeming man again, shave my head and paint it blue!  A corn factor, a horse jockey, an estate agent, and a jackdaw for cunningness, say I!” And he laughed again till he shook in his shoes with mirth.

All this time the Corn Engrosser had been staring at Robin, his mouth agape with wonder.  “Art thou mad,” quoth he, “to talk in this way, so loud and in such a place?  Let us forward, and save thy mirth till we are safe and sound at Newark.”

“Nay,” quoth Robin, the tears of merriment wet on his cheeks, “on second thoughts I go no farther than here, for I have good friends hereabouts.  Thou mayst go forward if thou dost list, thou sweet pretty fellow, but thou must go forward barefoot, for I am afraid that thy shoon must be left behind.  Off with them, friend, for I tell thee I have taken a great fancy to them.”

At these words the corn factor grew pale as a linen napkin.  “Who art thou that talkest so?” said he.

Then merry Robin laughed again, and quoth he, “Men hereabouts call me Robin Hood; so, sweet friend, thou hadst best do my bidding and give me thy shoes, wherefore hasten, I prythee, or else thou wilt not get to fair Newark Town till after dark.”