Part 3

Simon eyed them composedly, plainly unperturbed. He felt that he was master of the match, and made merry in the sense of his strength.

"Good-evening, crimps." Thus he greeted them cheerfully. "Why should I stand and what should I deliver?"

"The contents of thy wallet, fat rascal," made answer the man who seemed to hold a kind of chieftainship in the little league of two.

Simon grounded his cudgel.

"Fellow," he said, "I am not a rascal, neither am I fat. What you call fat is brawn, solid brawn. For the other matter, I am as poor as the ancient patriarch."

"We will not take thy word for that," the second robber grumbled, and the brace of knaves moved a little ways nearer to their quarry. Simon guessed that their game was to get at him, one on each side, and to counter their purpose the hunted became the hunter. He moved up on them whirling his baton, so valiant a piece of anger that the robbers yielded ground and their hearts were as water. He thundered at them as he moved:

"Also, I am a little less strong than Samson, the gate-snatcher, and will tackle twenty such as you."

One faintheart called to the other faintheart:

"I like not the looks of this Christopher," and the other faintheart, at one with his comrade, lowered his blade and cried at Simon, to placate him:

"If you be indeed penniless, there is no use in molesting you."

Simon's staff lay at ease again, balanced in his big fist. He was good-humored with the rogues, being tickled at the thought of their possible plunder--the brace of onions in his bag.

"Well reasoned, lads," he laughed. "No logical doctor in Byzantium could have come to a better conclusion. Are you very hot to pick pockets?"

He who seemed the leader of the pair seemed surprised at the simplicity of the question.

"Every honest man is anxious to push his trade," he affirmed, sagaciously.

Simon grinned.

"Is this forest your playground?" he pursued.

The robber shook his head.

"No, no," he said; "we come from Corinth, where we have plied our craft blithely this many a day. Among the light-fingered of that bright city I am Captain Fox, at your service," and the lean, leather-faced rascal made Simon a bow; "and this my comrade goes as Captain Gander," and he pointed to the fat rogue, his companion, who had seated himself on a tree-trunk to await the result of the negotiations.

Simon nodded, and queried:

"Where are you going, good Captain Fox and good Captain Gander?"

"We make for Athens," Captain Fox replied. "There are great doings in Athens--jousts, feasts, dances, banquets, pageants. We should do famously in Athens."

The other ruffian took up the tale.

"Every knight's purse will leak gold pieces, and the lovely ladies will rain pearls from their petticoats. 'Twill be but stooping to pick them up."

Simon leered at the pair maliciously, and his misanthropy hatched a plan.

"Though you take no toll of me, yet the devil is your friend to-night, for yonder on the highway at my heels comes, by-and-by, a young gentleman riding all alone, and one that is sure to carry gold in poke."

Captain Gander rubbed his plump hands.

"St. Nicholas be praised for sending us game," he chuckled.

Simon, in malice, dashed the rascals' hopes with a grin.