Robin Hood's Barn 



forced to earn an honest living, he might have 

 traveled as a journeyman house-wrecker with his 

 kit in beak. 



But it was as a bagger of big game that he 

 f oimd his chief exhilaration. A ring of the front 

 door bell was the jolly flourish that proclaimed 

 the hunt was up. The. old sport of routing 

 Phihstines! His father's blood was in him. 

 David had slain his ten thousands. Then could 

 not Solomon rest until he, too, had shown his 

 prowess. He must secure his captives or send 

 the cravens scurrying in flight. And did less 

 worthy sport provide, he would content himself 

 with any minion who dared pop a black face 

 from the burrow below the kitchen stairs. A 

 low taste and he knew it. Far different was his 

 pursuing scuttle from the grand manner of his 

 usual charge. It was, however, as though Balkis, 

 Queen of Sheba, had left rankling the bitterness 

 of an unfinished conquest, so deep-lying was 

 his anger against the least member of her dusky 

 race. 



Late in the afternoon with wrath expended, 

 it was his habit to sit at the western window, the 



[ii8] 



