But his old enemy held fast, and after a sharp struggle Robin stood
panting, face to face with the young swineherd, who had him tightly
by the doublet with both hands.
"You let go," cried young Robin fiercely. "You'll tear my coat."
"I means to tear it right off dreckly," said the boy, grinning. "I
want a noo un again, and it'll just do. I'm a-going to have them
bow and arrows too, and the knife and cap, I'll let you see! Going
and hiding away all this time, when I told yer to come back!"
"You let me go," panted Robin, looking vainly round for help.
"Nay, there aren't no one a-nigh, and I've got yer fast. Why
didn't yer come back as I told you?"
"I didn't want to," said Robin angrily. "You let me go. I'll call
Little John to you."
"Call him, and I'll knock his ugly old eye out," cried the boy. "I
don't care for no Little Johns. I've got you now, and I'm going to
pay you for not coming back before. And I know," he snarled,
"you're a thief; that's what you are."
"I'm not," cried Robin fiercely, and he made a desperate struggle
to get away to where his little quarter-staff lay half hidden
amongst the bracken. "You let me go.
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