EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 17 
The good Friar unpuckered his lips. 
“T am surprised, comrades,” he said severely. 
“You are n’t afraid of an old screech-owl, are you?” 
*““N-n-n-o00,”” quavered little Will Scarlet, “if 
you’re sure it’s a nowl.” 
““Certain sure,” asserted the Friar reassuringly, 
and gave the call again. 
On muffled, silent wings the dark form drifted 
around and around the light, but never across it, and 
then alighted on a nearby tree and gave an indescrib- 
able little crooning note which the Friar could only 
approximate. At last, disgusted with the clumsy 
attempts to continue a conversation so well begun, 
the owl melted away into the darkness and was gone. 
After that, the Band decided that home was the 
one place for them. Water was poured on the blaze, 
and earth heaped over the hissing embers. Under 
the sullen flare of Arcturus and the glow of Algieba, 
Spica, and all the stars of spring, they started back 
by dim wood roads and flower-scented lanes. Will 
Searlet, Little John, and Allan a’ Dale frankly shared 
the hands of the Friar, and in the darkest places 
even the redoubtable Robin himself casually took 
possession of an unoccupied thumb. 
