“Killed?” said the boy, staring at his big companion.

“Why, who would kill you?”

“Your father, perhaps.”

“What, for being kind to me?”

“I can’t explain all these things to you, mite.  Here’s someone coming.  Let’s ask him.  Hi!  Captain!  Young squire wants me to take him home.”

Robin Hood, who had just caught sight of the pair and come up, smiled and shook his head.

“Not yet, little one,” he said.  “I can’t spare big Little John.  Why, aren’t you happy here in the merry greenwood under the trees?  I thought you liked us.”

“So I do,” said young Robin, “and I should like to stay ever so long and watch the deer and the birds, and learn to shoot with my bow and arrows.”

“That’s right.  Well said, little one,” cried Robin Hood, patting the boy on the head.

“But I’m afraid that my father will be very cross if I don’t try to go home.”

“Then try and make yourself happy, my boy,” said Robin Hood, “for you have tried hard to go home, and you cannot go.”

“Why?” said young Robin.

“For a dozen reasons,” said the outlaw, smiling.  “Here are some:  you could not find your way; you would starve to death in the forest; you might meet people who would behave worse to you than the young swineherd, or encounter wild beasts; then, biggest reason of all:  I will not let you go.”

Young Robin was silent for a moment or two, and then he said quickly: 

“You might tell Little John to take me home.  My father would be so glad to see him.”

Robin Hood and the big fellow just named looked at one another and laughed.

“Yes,” said Robin Hood, patting the boy on the shoulder, “now that’s just it.  Your father, the Sheriff, would be so glad to see Little John that he would keep him altogether; and I can’t spare him.”

“I don’t think my father would be so unkind,” said Robin.

“But I am sure he would, little man,” said the outlaw.  “He’d be so glad to get him that he would spoil him.  Eh, John?  What do you think?”

“Ay, that he would,” said Little John, shaking his head.  “He’d be sure to spoil me.  He’d cut me shorter, perhaps, or else hang me up for an ornament.  No, my little man, I couldn’t take you home.”

“There,” said the outlaw, smiling; “you must wait, my boy.  Try and be contented as you are.  Maid Marian’s very kind to you, is she not?”

“Oh! yes,” cried the boy, with his face lighting up, “and that’s why I don’t want to go.”

“Hullo!” growled Little John.  “Why, you said just now that you did want to go!” “Did I?” said the boy thoughtfully.

“To be sure you did.  What do you mean.”

“I mean,” said the boy, looking wistfully from one to the other, “that I feel as if I ought to go home, but I think I should like to stay.”

“Hurrah!” cried Little John, taking off and waving his hat.  “Hear that, captain?  You’ve got another to add to your merry men.  Young Robin and I make a capital pair.  Come along, youngster, and let’s practise shooting at the mark, and then we’ll make enough arrows to fill your quiver.”