It was a lovely, crisp autumn day, so sunny and full of color that Frodo decided to go for a walk in the countryside after dinner.

After a summer of feeling quite well, he had been stricken down suddenly on October 6--the second anniversary of his injury at Weathertop. His shoulder ached as if the wound were fresh, and a darkness lay over his mind, almost as if he were being drawn back into that twilight world where the Black Riders existed. Sam put him to bed, and he lay there all the next day while the pain and darkness persisted. Frodo was afraid that this bad spell might go on for days but, fortunately, worst of it seemed to pass by the morning of the 8th. Now, a week later, he felt fine.

Sam looked a little worried when Frodo announced he was going out, but only insisted that Frodo take his coat against a chill and not tire himself by staying out too long. Frodo promised the latter and took his tweed coat down from its peg by the front door on his way out.

He spent a delightful hour walking the hedgerowed lanes around Hobbiton, climbing the green hills and shuffling his toes through the deep piles of golden and rust-red fallen leaves under the trees. At dusk, he headed for home by way of Bywater, and stopped at the Green Dragon. Frodo rarely went out drinking any more, but a half-pint of ale seemed like the best thing to finish off his day.

Rosie Cotton, at the bar, smiled at him in welcome and, as she gave him his mug of ale, said, "We've been hearing some talk about you tonight, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo didn't quite understand this remark until a very familiar voice reached him over the chattering of the other hobbits who crowded the taproom:

"Mr. Frodo's awfully clever. Smartest hobbit in all the Shire if you ask me."

Frodo turned to search the crowd, until he found Sam at a table behind him, seated with his friend Robin Smallburrows, the local shirriff. They were deep in conversation; Sam sat with his back to the bar and hadn't noticed when Frodo had come in.

"Do you think he'll see me?" asked Robin.

"Oh, he's always taking up these investigations, mostly for his relations, you understand, but he's done a bit for other folk too. If I ask him to look into this, he will," Sam assured his friend. "And he'll help you, Robin, you'll see. If anybody can figure out this puzzle of yours, Mr. Frodo can."

Frodo glowed warmly at this praise. It was one thing to know how highly Sam thought of him, but quite another to hear Sam saying so in public.

"Whyn't come up to Bag End with me?" Sam offered. "We'll put the matter before Mr. Frodo and see what he thinks." When he turned to rise from his chair, and saw Frodo standing at the bar, Sam's face colored; his mouth opened, then shut, and he ducked his head.

Frodo beamed at him affectionately. "Ask me what, Sam?"

"It's Robin here--he's got puzzle as needs working out." Sam waved across the table to indicate his friend.

"Sam says I ought to come to you, Mr. Baggins, 'bout this matter I was called to look into this afternoon," Robin explained. "There's been no crime as such, but it's an odd thing, and Sam here tells me you have a liking to investigate odd things. I thought as you might want to have a look at it yourself."

"What is it?" Frodo came over to join the pair at their table. Robin made as if to rise--he thought it disrespectful to be seated before a gentlehobbit--but Frodo gestured for him to stay where he was. Robin remained, but sat a little straighter in his chair as he reported:

"There was a house broken into this afternoon at Overhill--not burgled, Mr. Baggins, as I say. Nothing's been taken. But here's the curious thing: the furniture's been all shifted about."

"Shifted about?" asked Frodo. "You mean, someone came in and rearranged their furniture?"

"Not so much 'rearranged,'" said Robin, "more like pulled out of place in the rooms. I've been a sherriff in these parts for six years now, and it's the most peculiar bit of mischief I've ever seen! Can you tell me why anybody'd want to do such a thing?"

---

After a half-pint with Robin and some discussion on how to proceed with this mysterious incident, Frodo and Sam walked home arm in arm through the chilly autumn twilight.

"I was surprised to see you at the Dragon tonight, Sam," Frodo teased. "When I saw you last, you were in the kitchen, washing up."

"I thought as you wouldn't be needing me, I'd pop out for a minute or two," Sam sounded somewhat embarrassed as he explained. "I wanted to see Rosie. We have one or two things to talk over, as I'm hoping to speak to her Dad about her this Highday when I go to the Cottons for dinner."

"Are you, Sam?" Frodo asked without jealousy. "Good! I've been wondering when you'd come to the point and ask for Rosie's hand. And what did she have to say?"

"Well, I scarcely had a chance to talk to her, with the place being so busy tonight, and then Robin caught hold of me to ask about you. I meant to be home before you got back, but Robin was so long about telling his tale. You don't mind me telling him you'd look into this odd business, do you?"

"No, not at all! And I'm not sorry you were delayed--it's much more pleasant if we walk home together." As the road took a steep turn up the Hill toward Bag End, Frodo leaned on his companion; when Sam's arm went around his back, he snuggled a little closer. Overhead, the sky was clear and the stars were coming out. "Besides, I couldn't have been happier at finding you as I did, and overhearing what I happened to."

Sam started guiltily. "What'd you hear?"

"That the one I love best thinks the world of me."

"Well, you knew that, didn't you?"

Frodo chuckled. "Yes, but it's always nice to hear. Do you really think I'm the cleverest hobbit in the Shire?"

"Who else'd I pick?" Sam responded, beginning to tease in return. "Mr. Bilbo's the only other one I might say so about, and he's gone away and left all his books and such to you."

"I hope I can live up to my reputation."

"You've done all right so far," Sam assured him. "Whatever mystery's been put before you, you've always sorted 'em out."

"With your help, Sam, and Merry's and Pippin's." They were now on the path leading up to Bag End. Ahead of them, the house under the top of the hill lay dark, for both had gone out while it was still daylight. The door had been left on the latch and, once they were inside, Frodo stopped just within the doorway to remove his tweed coat while Sam fumbled to find and light a candle. When the candle was found and the front hall was cast in flickering light, Frodo shut the door and gave Sam a kiss. He'd been waiting to do it since they'd left the Green Dragon, but didn't dare. The gossip about them had died down since Sam had begun to court Rosie, and Frodo didn't want to risk a revival of the whispers if anyone should see him being too openly affectionate with Sam in public. But in private, he could do as he pleased.

They had the house to themselves: Pippin was in Tuckborough with his family, and Merry had gone to stay with Fatty Bolger at Budgeford for a few days while Fatty's sister Estella and Aunt Beryl were away visiting their Brookbank relatives.

The two stood for awhile in the front hall, not overlooked by any windows as they held each other close and kissed by candlelight. Then Frodo broke off. "It's a bit early," he whispered huskily, "but I'd like to go to bed now."

Sam gave him a worried look. "You're not feeling tired after your walk, are you?"

"No," Frodo laughed. "Not in the least!" Sam tended to be overly careful with him, especially after one of his bad turns, and often needed to be shown that it was all right for them to make love again. Frodo intended to show him now. "Come along, love."

And, taking Sam by the hand, he led him down the dark turns of the hallway to their bedroom.

The next morning, they went with Robin to visit the young couple who lived in the burgled cottage, Florabel and Jaro Fairbairns. The cottage was an old place in the classic hobbit-style--that is, designed to look like a smial burrowed into a hill--and the neat garden of tall rose bushes and ancient apple trees around and atop it was so well grown that the rounded hump of earth might be taken for a natural hillock.

Mr. Fairbairns was a sturdy youth near Frodo's own age, and his wife was a pretty girl with fair curls in ribbons. Frodo was not previously acquainted with the young couple, and they looked a little confused when Sherriff Smallburrows returned to their door with two strangers.

"This is Mr. Frodo Baggins," Robin made the introduction, "and my friend, Sam Gamgee, who works for him."

"I've heard of a Baggins who lives in the splendid house under the Hill. But you're not a sherriff, are you?" asked Jaro after greetings had been exchanged. He looked rather doubtful of it, since Frodo obviously appeared to be a gentlehobbit, and the Bagginses were well-known around Hobbiton as a family of some prominence.

"He's a private investigator," Robin explained. "I've asked him to look into the trouble you've been having."

The Fairbairns were suitably impressed; they had never seen a private investigator before. "Can you help us, Mr. Baggins?" Florabel asked. "Has the sherriff told you what happened?"

"Yes, in part," Frodo replied. "But I'd like you to hear more about it from you."

"There isn't much we can tell you," said Jaro. "We'd been asked to tea yesterday with an auntie of Flora's who's been out of this part of this Shire for years--she's visiting another aunt who lives near Bywater. We started to walk and had gotten about half a mile, when Flora realized she'd forgot the basket of tartlets she'd baked and promised to bring her aunts, so we had to go back to get it."

"But that turned out to be a lucky thing," said Florabel. "When we came in the door, we saw at once that someone had been in the cottage while we were out. That chest there-" she pointed to a tall walnut chest of drawers against the sitting-room wall beside the hearth- "was pulled out into the room, and the rugs here and in the front hall had been thrown back from the floor."

"The kitchen table had been moved too," her husband added.

"And the funny thing is that it's happened before," said Florabel.

"You didn't say so yesterday, Ma'am," Robin chided.

"My husband and I were talking it over last night, and... well..." she glanced at Jaro. "We didn't realize it at the time. If I saw that the wardrobe in our bedroom had been moved from its place, I didn't think it very odd. I assumed that Jaro must have had a reason for doing it. And he thought I had done it."

"We didn't think anything of such peculiar incidents until yesterday," Jaro finished. "It was hard not to see that something was going on when we weren't home once we came back unexpectedly and surprised whoever it was. There was no mistaking it then!"

"You didn't see who it was?" asked Frodo.

The young hobbit shook his head. "I told the shirriff here--they must have fled out the back door as we came in at the front. I went after them, but never saw anyone."

"And nothing was taken?" asked Frodo.

Both shook their heads. "Nothing we've missed," said Jaro.

Frodo had to agree that this sounded very odd indeed. "May I ask, Mr. and Mrs. Fairbairns: how long have you lived here?"

"Only three months," Florabel answered. "Uncle Bardo let us have it just after we were married."

"Bardo Taggart," her husband explained. "The cottage belongs to him."

"And how long have these odd incidents been happening?" Frodo asked.

"Since last week," said Florabel. "At least, that's the first time I can recall something being moved. The cottage used to belong to Uncle Bardo's mother, who died last year." She let out a nervous little laugh. "I know you'll think it silly of me, but I've sometimes wondered if we weren't being haunted by Granny Julilla's ghost!"

---

When they left the Fairbairns' cottage, Frodo suggested that they pay a call on Bardo Taggart, who lived just down the lane in a larger and grander smial. The three were shown to the parlor, where Mr. Taggart, a prosperous-looking hobbit in his sixties, was seated with an equally prosperous-looking lady whom Frodo assumed was his wife, until Mr. Taggart introduced her as his sister, Mrs. Garnetta Broadbelt.

Once Frodo had explained what brought them, Mr. Taggart nodded solemnly. "Yes... Jaro brought me the news of this odd business last night," he said. "Nettie and I were just talking about it. It sounds most peculiar."

"I've heard of you and your investigating ways from an acquaintance of mine, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins," said Mrs. Broadbelt. "She has quite a lot to say about you poking into other people's affairs, and none of it good." As Frodo's heart sank in dismay, she smiled and added, "But I never take Lobelia at her word. I believe we are connected by marriage, Mr. Baggins. Our sister Ruby is married to Wilgo Chubb--a cousin of yours?"

Frodo nodded. "I know Wilgo and Ruby well." Wilgo was a distant cousin, but Frodo knew that he and his wife lived near Bywater. He also wondered if Ruby was the aunt that Florabel and Jaro had been going to visit.

This slight family connection seemed to be sufficient for Mr. Taggart to invite Frodo and his companions to be seated and ask how he could be of assistance to them.

"I'd like to find out more about that cottage, Mr. Taggart," Frodo began as he took a seat by the elder pair; Sam and Robin hung back shyly near the door, Robin twisting his cap in his hands. "The Fairbairns tell me that it's your property, and that it used to belong to your mother?"

"Yes, that's right," said Mr. Taggart. "The cottage was Mother's house. She and our father lived there when they first married. Father had this bigger smial burrowed out for her when we were children, but I think Mother always preferred her old, little home. After Father died, she didn't want to stay on here with me, nor would she go to live with Nettie or Ruby. She went back to her old cottage, and there she stayed 'til she passed away last summer."

"Did she live there alone?" Frodo asked.

"She was near enough that we could keep an eye on her," said Mrs. Broadbelt, "and she had her maid, Dilly, to look after her. Dilly took care of Mother when she was a girl, before she was married, and looked after us when we were children. She never left Mother's side until the day she died."

"After Mother's death, the cottage sat empty for months, until young Florrie married," her brother added. "I offered it to her and her husband as a honeymoon home."

"Did anything odd like this happen when your mother lived there?"

"No..." Bardo glanced significantly at his sister, who nodded.

"It's the jewelry," she said. "I've always said it was still in that cottage!"

"Jewelry?" said Robin, suddenly alert. "What jewelry is this, Ma'am?"

"Mother's," Mrs. Broadbelt said, then explained in more detail primarily to Frodo: "She had some lovely pieces. There were pearl earrings, broaches, a pair of golden combs, and a famous emerald necklace set in dwarf-wrought gold that was worth more than all the rest together. You can see it, there." She pointed to the wall beside the door, where a small, oval portrait of an elderly hobbit-lady wearing a velvet dress and a magnificent collar of green stones was hung. Robin turned to examine it more closely. "It was her prized possession. It'd been in Mother's family for generations, before hobbits ever came to the Shire, and has always been passed down from daughter to daughter. As I was her eldest daughter, it should have to come to me on her death."

The door opened and another lady and girl of about twenty came into the room. "Bardo, dear-" the lady began, then stopped. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I didn't realize we had visitors." She looked at Sam, then Robin. "The sherriff is here?"

"Have you come about the burglary at Florrie's?" the girl asked excitedly.

"Now, it wasn't a burglary, Meddy," said Bardo. "Nothing was taken."

"Only because the burglars were interrupted," his wife replied. "Such things shouldn't be allowed in the Shire! It makes one feel quite unsafe, and something ought to be done about it."

"We'll do our best to put a stop to it, Ma'am," Robin assured her deferentially. "That's why I've brought Mr. Baggins here."

"Mr. Baggins..?" Mrs. Taggart looked confused, until her eyes fell upon the young hobbit seated near Mrs. Broadbelt.

"He's going to look into this matter for us, my dear," her husband explained. "Mr. Baggins, this is my wife, Glora, and our daughter, Medora." After the proper courtesies had been exchanged, Bardo went on, "Nettie and I were just telling them about Mother's missing jewelry. They may have something to do with this odd business at the cottage."

"You said that your mother meant to give her emerald necklace to her daughter," Frodo reminded them.

"Yes, that's right," said Bardo. "Mother had made out a list of what pieces were to be given to whom. The necklace, of course, was to go to Nettie, the earrings to Ruby, the combs to Opal, and other, lesser pieces were meant for Medora and my sisters' girls."

"From eldest daughter to eldest daughter, it always was," Mrs. Broadbelt repeated, "but since I have no daughter, Mother thought it more fair to divide her jewels between all the daughters and granddaughters of the family."

"Mother Taggart was even kind enough to mention my niece Florrie," said Mrs. Taggart.

"Even though the girl was no relation to her," added Mrs. Broadbelt, "except by marriage."

Mrs. Taggart gave her sister-in-law a sharp look, and Frodo was afraid that the two ladies were going to quarrel.

"But the jewels was never given to anybody," said Sam, rescuing the situation. "What happened to them?"

"Well, you know the way of old ladies," said Mr. Taggart. "In her last days, Mother grew rather scatter-brained and began to worry about her jewels being stolen. We think that she must have hidden them away someplace safe, but she never told us where. Perhaps she forgot. We went through her things after her funeral, searched all over the cottage, but never found the jewelry box. That was well over a year ago."

When Frodo and his companions left the Taggart house, Mrs. Broadbelt exited with them.

"Your aunt Lobelia has no kind words for you, Mr. Baggins," she told Frodo once they were outside, "especially since this awful scandal concerning her son and that poor farm-girl. But for all her harsh words, she's told me some quite interesting things about you--and I've heard a bit from others as well. You're the adopted heir of that peculiar old Baggins who disappeared a few years ago. They say you take after him: you're an intelligent lad, but just as peculiar as he was. You've gone on adventures yourself. Perhaps that sort of peculiarity is just what a good investigator needs to do his work. It requires a keen imagination--which is a quality I'm sorry to say more respectable hobbits usually lack. You'll find Mother's jewelry, won't you?"

"Yes, if I can," Frodo answered, "but the difficulties the Fairbairns have been subjected to at their cottage may have nothing to do with your Mother's missing jewels. It may be a separate piece of mischief entirely."

"Oh, pshaw!" Mrs. Broadbelt dismissed this suggestion. "It's all one and the same. Find out who's plaguing Florrie and Jaro, and I've no doubt you'll find out what Mother did with her jewels. I always said that they must still be somewhere in that cottage, and you'll see in the end that I'm right!"

"Where do we go now?" asked Sam as they headed back to Hobbiton.

"Right now, we'll go home for lunch," Frodo answered, "but I think that I shall pay a call on my cousin-by-marriage Ruby Chubb this afternoon. You needn't come with me, Sam, if you don't wish to." He had tried to bring Sam up a step or two in hobbit society by introducing him to some of the prominent local families, but he knew how awkward and out-of-place these social calls made Sam feel. "Nor you, Sherriff Smallburrows," he added to Robin. "We've already taken you away from your regular duties for too much of today."

"It's been a pleasure seeing you work, Mr. Baggins," Robin assured him, "but I do have my usual rounds to do."

"Then why don't you go on, and we'll meet at the Dragon this evening. If I have anything to tell you, I can do so then."

Robin agreed to this and, with a tug on his cap, went on his way.

After lunch, Frodo put on one of his best velvet jackets and walked over to the Old Place on the other side of Hobbiton. He meant to visit the Chubbs, but he thought he would need some assistance in getting into their house without making them suspicious of his purpose. He was not a close acquaintance of the couple, for they were older than he--both about fifty, grown and married while he was still a boy in Buckland--and he had never paid a call on them before--but Wilgo and Ruby were friends of Milo and Peony Burrows, with whom Frodo was now on good terms, especially since he had apologized to them for suspecting Milo of Lotho Sackville-Baggins' murder.

Milo was not at home when Frodo arrived at the Old Baggins Place, but Aunt Dora, who answered the door, told him that Peony was in. Milo and Peony lived with Dora, in part to look after the old lady, and in part to give their four children a larger home than they could otherwise afford. They hoped that Dora would leave the house to them when she died--a hope that had increased since Dora's previous favorite, Peony's niece Angelica, had fallen out of favor by defying her family to marry Lad Whitfoot this past summer.

Before he could seek out Peony, Frodo was obligated by politeness to spend a few minutes with his elderly aunt. Angelica's marriage had been a enormous disappointment to Dora; the old lady had much to say about her great-niece's duplicity.

"I always thought her such a sweet, pretty child. How she fooled us all! You're fortunate not to have been here, Frodo, when she told us how she'd been sneaking out of the house at night to see that boy, and how they absolutely had to get married as soon as possible to avoid a disgrace. A disgrace was exactly what it was--but what could her poor parents do but give their blessings and see her married to him. Well, she's got just what she wanted, and I hope she'll be happy with her foolish choice." Dora gave her nephew's arm a sympathetic pat. "I do hope that she hasn't broken your heart, dear boy." It had always been Dora's fondest wish that Frodo and Angelica would marry one day, even though Frodo and Angelica didn't like each other very much.

"No, Auntie," Frodo assured her. "I knew that she preferred Lad to me."

"Preferred Lad Whitfoot!" Dora repeated incredulously. "I wonder that any sensible girl could possibly prefer that thick-headed Mayor's son over a bright, handsome boy like you! But you mustn't be discouraged by Angelica's fickleness, Frodo. You'll find someone else--I'm certain of it. There must be dozens of girls in the Shire who'd be happy to marry you."

When Frodo excused himself and slipped away from Dora at last, he found Peony in the kitchen, half-dusted in flour as she made currant buns for the children's tea.

"You want to visit Ruby and Wilgo Chubb?" Peony said once Frodo told her why he had come to her. She clapped her hands briskly to brush off the flour before she put the buns in the oven to bake. "Why? Are you conducting another investigation, Frodo?"

"Yes, but it's no murder."

"Well, thank goodness for that! What have they done?"

"Nothing that I know of, but I've been given a very odd puzzle to solve." As Frodo explained the curious incident at the Fairbairns' cottage and his visit to the Taggarts' house, Peony grew more interested.

"I remember hearing about the missing jewels after Mrs. Taggart's death," she said. "There was a great to-do about it--you were away from Hobbiton, off on your adventures, at the time. I've always wondered what became of them. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could find them?"

"Then will you help? Will you come with me to the Chubbs' house?" Frodo asked her. "I'm not in the habit of calling on them, and it would look rather odd if I appeared on their doorstep... unless I were with a friend of theirs, like you or Milo."

Peony laughed. "What subterfuges you must get up to in these investigations of yours, Frodo! But I suppose it would be fun to be on the investigator's side for a change, instead of being one of the people you suspect." Even though she was a Baggins by birth and as solid and respectable as any hobbit in the Shire, Peony had enough sense of adventure to see some appeal in solving a mystery. "As a matter of fact, Ruby's been asking me to call on her. She has a sister visiting who she's eager for us to meet."

"Can you go this afternoon?" Frodo asked.

Peony agreed, and after changing her dress and asking Aunt Dora to give the children their tea, they went.

"The Chubbs may have already heard about what's happened at the Fairbairns' cottage, but I would rather not have them or anyone else connected with the late Mrs. Taggart know that I'm looking into it," Frodo explained to his cousin on their way to Bywater. "We mustn't mention the Fairbairns unless someone else speaks of them first."

Ruby Chubb, who was a plump little lady with mousy curls and a pleasant, apple-cheeked face, looked surprised to see Frodo with Peony when she answered the door, but Peony explained her escort easily. "Milo's very sorry he wasn't able to come today, but Frodo was kind enough to accompany me. You don't mind if he joins us, do you, Ruby?"

"Not at all," Ruby answered. "We don't see much of you, Frodo. Come in, please, both of you. There's already quite a crowd in the parlor, but I'm sure we can squeeze you in."

Ruby showed them into her best parlor, where Wilgo and their two small daughters were seated with several visitors: Prunella Proudfoot; Poppy Bolger, who was a mutual cousin of Frodo's, Peony's, and Wilgo's, and her husband Filibert; to Frodo's surprise, Mrs. Broadbelt was also there. In the center of the room, as guest of honor, sat another plump little lady of about sixty who bore a strong resemblance to both Ruby and Nettie Broadbelt. On either side of this lady sat two sturdy-looking girls with black curls, one in her late teens and the other in her early twenties, whom Frodo had never seen before.

"This is my sister, Mrs. Opal Windle," Ruby made the introduction, "and her daughters, Pola and Pella. I daresay you won't remember when Opal was here last. She married away five-and-twenty years ago and went to live at Haysend in the far south of the Shire, and hasn't been home again since."

"How long are you staying in Bywater?" Peony asked.

"For another week or two," said Opal. "We've been here since the beginning of the month, and my husband is awaiting our return--but I did want to see my family again after so long. Everyone's so changed from when I last saw them. I've missed so much."

"She even missed both Father's and Mother's funerals, poor dear," said Mrs. Broadbelt.

"My daughters have never been to this part of the Shire before." Opal indicated the two girls who sat beside her, "Ruby's done her best to see that they have the chance to meet everyone they can during this visit."

"I'm eager for them to meet all the people around Bywater and Hobbiton," Ruby agreed. "Especially the young folk." She gave Frodo a speculative look that he had often seen from the mothers, grandmothers, and aunts of young girls--even if the girls were, like Opal's daughters, not yet of an age to marry. He knew that he was considered an extremely eligible bachelor.

"And have you girls made many friends here?" Mrs. Broadbelt asked her nieces. "I believe Medora's taken you around and introduced you to some of her friends."

"Oh, yes, Medora's been quite nice to us," said the younger girl, Pella. "She knows such a lot of people, and it seems as every one of them is a cousin!"

"Has she taken you to meet your cousin Florabel yet?" the lady continued.

"I don't think so..." Pella looked to her mother for assistance.

"There was a cousin we were meant to meet yesterday," her sister, Pola, said with a laugh. "Aunt Ruby invited her and her new husband to tea, only they never arrived. Was that her, Auntie?"

"Yes, that was Florabel," said Ruby. "And I must say that I'm quite disappointed. She promised most faithfully that they would come. You girl were late to tea yourselves-"

"We were out with Medora, Aunt Ruby," said Pola, "and we lost sense of the time. But at least we made haste once we realized we were behind."

Ruby turned to her eldest sister. "Do you know what happened to Florabel, Nettie?"

"I heard that they had some trouble at the cottage," Mrs. Broadbelt answered.

Peony glanced at Frodo; he was watching Mrs. Broadbelt worriedly, afraid that she would give everything away.

But, with a knowing twinkle in her eyes, Mrs. Broadbelt added, "Rats, I believe. It's that old cottage of Mother's, you know," she told Opal. "I'm afraid it sat empty for far too long after Mother passed away."

"How unpleasant!" said Opal with a small shudder. "I know Mother treasured the old place, but I wouldn't live there for anything."

"You don't wish to go and visit the old cottage while you're here?" asked Mrs. Broadbelt. "Your daughters might like to see the home where you grew up."

"No, indeed. I'd rather remember it the way it was when we were children. It's been so long, I'm sure I wouldn't know it anymore. If the girls would like to see it, I'm sure their cousin Medora will take them."

"It's a pity you haven't had a chance to meet my niece, Angelica," Peony said quickly to the girls to try and divert the conversation. "But she married away a few months ago."

"How is Angelica?" Poppy asked pointedly. "We've heard that she's expecting a baby already."

"Yes, she is," Peony confirmed. "Isn't it wonderful! It's just what she wanted." Peony and the rest of the Baggins family--even those who approved of Lad--had not been so delighted when Angelica had announced her pregnancy, but gossip about her hasty marriage was spreading around Hobbiton, and the Bagginses were determined to put the best face on the situation.

"It seems that so many young people are marrying lately," said Prunella. "You've just been to another wedding, haven't you, Frodo? Your cousin Melly Brandybuck and one of the Took lads."

"Yes, that's right," Frodo answered. "It was Everard Took. He and Melly are on their honeymoon now."

"Wasn't there some scandal in Tuckborough before they married?" asked Filibert. "Something to do with a boy who was killed, and Everard was suspected."

"The boy was a friend of Everard's," Frodo admitted, "but Everard wasn't responsible for his death. The wedding was delayed for a few days, but it all came out right in the end." He told the group about Melilot's and Everard's wedding, but did not mention the part he'd played in finding Toby Clover's murderer. The conversation had already draw too close to his previous work as an investigator, and he did not want questions about his present case. Aside from Peony, Mrs. Broadbelt was the only one here who knew of it, and he didn't know if he could rely on her to keep it secret. What did she mean by deliberately bringing up Florabel Fairbairns and the goings-on at the cottage? If only he knew what she was up to!

As he was telling his tale, the front door burst open and a hurried patter of bare feet came running down the hall. Ruby's fifteen-year-old son Wilcome came into the parlor with his best friend and partner-in-mischief, Frodo's young cousin Sancho Proudfoot.

"Sit down, boys! Sit down and behave yourselves," Ruby urged them. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes, Ma," Wilcome replied, and headed straight for the tea-table to gather up a handful of little seedcakes. Sancho tweaked one of the little Chubb girls' curls in greeting; when Wilcome tossed a couple of cakes to him, he caught them, then sat on the hearthrug at Prunella's feet. Wilcome plopped himself down on a tuffet to munch on the rest. "Sancho's Grandpa gave us a good tea, so we're nearly full up," he reported through a mouthful.

"Young hobbits are never full up," said Wilgo, and everyone laughed. "Still, I suppose it's better that you lads go from house to house stuffing yourselves with jam and cake than getting into trouble."

"What naughtiness have you lads been up to today?" Sancho's grandmother asked indulgently.

"Nothing particular, Granny Pru," Sancho answered. "We've just been about the town, looking for fun." When he noticed that Frodo was staring at him, he ducked his head and looked abashed.

"We all know your idea of fun," said Filibert. "Who was it that stopped up Mrs. Goodbody's chimney last week with old bird-nests? Who let the Gammidges' cows out of the pasture, and then ran off with an armload of pumpkins while Farmer Gammidge and his sons were busy chasing the cows? And who left those same pumpkins smashed on half a dozen doorsteps around Hobbiton?"

"Not us, Uncle Fil!" Wilcome protested, which set up another round of laughter around the room. No one believed him.

"Nonsense, lad," replied his father. "If there's any mischief hereabouts, no surprise if the two of you are at the heart of it."

"Wait 'til Milo hears what I've been doing today!" Peony said after they left the Chubbs' and were walking down the lane toward Bywater. "It was rather exciting--although I was worried when Mrs. Broadbelt began to ask her questions. Does she know about your investigation, Frodo?"

"Yes, she knows," Frodo answered, "and what's more, I'm sure she knows why we visited her sister today."

"I thought I spied a certain glint in her eye when she was talking about Florabel's cottage. Take care, Frodo--She's a clever old lady. I don't know her well, but I've met her at Ruby's house before. She's the eldest of the family, and I gather that she rules over Ruby and their brother just as their mother used to. She had an eye on her sisters today. I think she brought up the cottage to see how they responded. Did you notice?"

Frodo had noticed. He was beginning to wonder if Mrs. Broadbelt was conducting an investigation of her own. "I suspect there isn't much that goes past her unobserved."

"Do you think she knows where those jewels are?" asked Peony.

"I'm certain she doesn't. She'd be wearing her emeralds now if she did."

After he had thanked Peony for her help and saw her on her way home, Frodo did not go home himself, but went to the Green Dragon. It was still early; the usual crowd of local farm-lads and Bywater shopkeepers had not yet come in, nor had Robin finished his rounds, but Sam was there, talking softly to Rosie. The barmaid's cheeks were pink, and her eyes shone into Sam's as she leaned on one side of the bar and he on the other, and they held each others' hands across it. Frodo stopped in the tavern doorway, not wishing to interrupt.

When they did notice him, Sam blushed more deeply than Rosie. Drawing back from the bar to stand straight, he announced, "It's settled. I'm to ask Mr. Cotton for Rosie's hand this coming Highday."

"How wonderful! Congratulations!" Frodo sincerely offered them his best wishes. "Please, come up to Bag End one day soon," he invited Rose. "There are several nice bedrooms that have been closed up. You'll have to choose the one you like best for your own."

"Thank you, Mr. Frodo," said Rosie. "That's very kind." Then she asked, in a softer voice, "And where's Sam to go?"

"Wherever he likes. We can arrange the details when the time comes."

"And will I keep house for you, Mr. Frodo?"

"If you wish to. Bag End will be your home too." Frodo already planned to leave his house to the Gamgees. He hoped that Rosie would grow to think of Bag End as hers and Sam's as much as his long before that day.

If Rosie didn't entirely understand the reasons for Frodo's generosity, she nodded and accepted them nevertheless. She knew that Sam had finally proposed to her only because Frodo had encouraged him to do it.

They were discussing plans for Rosie's visit to Bag End when the first of the local shopkeepers and farmers came in and occupied Rosie with orders. Robin arrived soon after, and joined Frodo and Sam at his usual table. Over half-pints of ale, Frodo told them about his visit to the Chubbs.

Robin took particular note when Frodo mentioned the two boys. "It sounds to me like this whole mystery's most likely nothing more'n young Masters Wilcome and Sancho up to their pranks," he said. "We've had our share of those lads' games afore this."

"I'm afraid, Shirriff, that this is more than a prank," Frodo answered solemnly. "There has been a crime--or, at least, an attempt at a rather mean and petty one. Our burglars are sure to try again, because they haven't found what they're after."

"The missing jewelry, you mean?" asked Sam.

"Yes, that's right. I'm sure that Mrs. Broadbelt is right. It's still in the house somewhere, and I have a good idea who's looking for it. It's fairly obvious, when you think about it."

Sam and Robin stared at him blankly.

Frodo laughed. "Never mind--you'll see soon enough."

He rose to fetch a fresh round of ales and, as he walked away from the table, he heard a murmured exchange behind him:

"D'you know who he means, Sam?"

"No, but I told you Mr. Frodo was clever, didn't I?"

---

After they returned to Bag End that evening, while Sam made dinner, Frodo went around the house and peeked into the closed bedrooms.

"I've invited Rosie to come to tea on her next afternoon off. We can make arrangements then," he called out to Sam as he left one unoccupied room and opened the door to another. "What about Pip's and Merry's room? It's the largest in the house after the master bedroom. I don't wish to imply that they've worn out their welcome, but I think it's best that they go and visit somewhere else soon after your wedding, before Rosie comes to live with us. It's only natural that she'd like to manage the housekeeping once she's here, but I don't want her to feel as if she's taken charge of a boarding-house for young gentlemen." He stood in the doorway, considering the room where his cousins were staying, which was slightly untidy even though the two were away. Sam left the kitchen and came down the hall to join him. "What do you think, Sam? It needs some sweeping up, and perhaps some fresh paint, but I think it could be quite pleasant. Would you and Rosie like it?"

"It's a bit close to your room," said Sam, and glanced at Frodo's door just across the hall. "You know how we can hear 'em at it some nights. I wouldn't like us to be that close. Frodo... you passed it by when Rosie asked, but how d'you mean to arrange things between us?" His face and the points of his ears were flushed, but he had to have the matter clear. "Am I to spend a night in your bed, and the next one in Rose's, then go back to you again?"

"Something like that," Frodo answered, "although of course I'll see to it that Rosie has more of your time at first, until she feels quite settled in and comfortable. I want her to feel as if she truly has a home here, and a husband, and they aren't only granted her by my sufferance." He shut the door and went to look at the guestroom behind the kitchen. This room was not frequently used; the furniture was under dust-sheets, and the feather-mattress had been rolled up at the head of the bedstead. It was a smaller room than the one Merry and Pippin were in, but it had a second room adjoining it that might do well as a nursery.

"What if I don't like being shared?" wondered Sam as he followed.

Frodo turned to smile at him. "Oh, I think you'll enjoy it. Don't you think it rather flattering to have two people love you enough that neither wants to give you up?"

"Maybe it is... but it'll take some getting used to."

"Give it a fair chance. I believe that if we're all reasonable about it, things will work out wonderfully." When Frodo turned to leave the small bedroom, Sam caught him about the waist and held him close. Frodo let himself be held, bracing his forearms on Sam's sturdy chest.

"You'll miss me when I'm not there, won't you?" Sam asked him.

"You know I will." Frodo gave him a kiss. "But I'm willing to make the sacrifice for a greater good--for your happiness, and Rose's. Besides, it's not as if I've given you up completely. I couldn't bear to do that."

"And you'll be all right, sleeping alone? What if you have a bad turn?"

"Whichever room you choose in the end, it won't be too far away. If I have trouble in the night, you'll hear me and come to me, just as you always do. Rosie won't mind that." Frodo chuckled and slid his arms up from Sam's chest to wrap them around his neck. "Not if you don't come to me too often or stay too long, and she starts to suspect that it's all a trick to let me spend more time with you."

"You wouldn't do that, would you?" Sam asked with some surprise.

"No..." Frodo laughed and bestowed another kiss. "It wouldn't be fair to Rosie. We are going to share you, Samwise Gamgee, fair and square. If I meant to keep you all to myself, I would."

There was a hissing gurgle from the kitchen as a pot on the fire bubbled over. With a cry of "My carrots and taters!" Sam let Frodo go and raced off to attend to them. Frodo remained in the empty bedroom, smiling softly. When Rosie came to visit, he would show her this room and offer it to her; if she liked it, he would have it fixed up nicely for her and Sam as part of his wedding gift to them.

He found he was looking forward to doing these things. He wanted to have Rosie here as part of his household, to see if they could make this arrangement work. He could see that both Sam and Rosie had their doubts about his idea for sharing Sam--and it was a strange and unconventional idea for traditionally minded hobbits to consider--but he had talked them into it and he would have to coax them along carefully to have a success.

In the morning, they located Robin Smallburrows and went back to the Fairbairns' cottage. Florabel welcomed them in and asked if they'd gotten very far with the problem.

"We've made some interesting progress, Mrs. Fairbairns," Frodo told her. "I've come to ask you and your husband a few more questions. I hope you'll forgive me if them seem a little odd."

"I'll forgive anything that will clear this puzzle up," Florabel assured him. "What is it you want to know, Mr. Baggins?"

"Is this furniture yours, or was it here when you moved in?"

"Most of it's ours," she answered. "It was given to me or to Jaro by our families when we married."

"What about the late Mrs. Taggart's things? Do you know where they've gone?"

"Uncle Bardo took his mother's things away long before we moved in here. He's got some of her furniture at his house now, and Aunt Nettie has the rest."

"Do you mind if we shift one or two pieces of furniture now?" Frodo requested. "I believe you said that this chest of drawers had been pulled away from the wall?"

"Yes, that's right." If Florabel did find this request strange, she had had enough strangeness in her life of late not to protest, but gave her consent for the chest to be moved again. Since Sam wouldn't dream of letting Frodo move furniture, he and Robin did the shifting. Jaro came in while the two were working and demanded to know what was going on, but once the situation had been explained to him, he also gave a hand.

When the chest of drawers had been pulled about two feet away from the wall, Frodo slipped into the gap to examine the wall behind it.

"There are several marks here in the plaster," he reported to his eagerly awaiting audience, and ran his fingertips over a series of deep little dents. "Here--do you see? It looks as if someone's been knocking on the wall with a stick or the tip of an umbrella. Were these marks here when you moved in?"

"I didn't notice," said Jaro, looked to his wife.

"Nor did I--but it don't think it likely," she added. "Uncle Bardo had the entire cottage plastered and painted afresh just before we came. Everything looked quite new. You couldn't even see where the old pictures had been hung."

They pushed the chest of drawers back into place and, at Frodo's direction, moved a few other pieces of furniture to find similar marks. There were also some interesting scratches on the planks of the floors beneath the rugs and on flagstones of the kitchen hearth, as if someone had tried to pry them up.

"But what does it mean?" asked Robin, utterly baffled.

Frodo had an idea, but he wanted to keep it to himself for the present, until he had more proof. "Mr. and Mrs. Fairbairns, I have one last odd request to make. Do either of your parents live nearby? Would it be possible for you to visit them for a few days?"

This was by far the strangest thing he had asked of the young couple, but his detective skills had so impressed them that they were willing to do it. "We can stay with my mother for a day or two," Florabel said. "She lives only a few miles away."

"And will you inform your uncle that you're leaving? He'll understand the reason why--you can't bear staying on in this cottage any longer with the possibility of intruders breaking in."

"Shall I tell Mother that?" Florabel asked. "She hasn't heard a word of this yet, and I don't wish to frighten her."

"You needn't do that. Tell her..." Frodo smiled. "Tell her it's a problem with rats."

While Florabel sent a message to her mother and packed their bags, Jaro walked over to Mr. Taggart's house to tell him that they were going. Frodo went with him to ask Miss Medora a few questions. When they returned to the cottage, Florabel was ready to go.

"Mother says that she'll be pleased to have us visit," she reported. "You'll look after the cottage while we're gone, won't you, Mr. Baggins?"

"The cottage must look unoccupied, but at least one of us--Shirriff Smallburrows, Mr. Gamgee, or myself--will be here at all times," Frodo promised her.

"And this matter will be straightened out when we come back?"

"Yes, that's my hope," said Frodo. "I mean to lay a trap for the culprits. If I'm successful, this mystery will be cleared up within a few days, and you won't be troubled again. I'll be able to explain everything to you then."

"We'll look very much forward to it!" Jaro exclaimed.

After the young couple had gone, Frodo remained to keep watch at the cottage while Sam went back to Bag End to pack a few necessaries. Robin went on his usual rounds, but promised to return when he was finished.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. Sam grumbled a bit at dinner-time that he was unable to prepare a hot meal; a fire in the kitchen--and smoke from the chimney--would betray the fact that someone was at home. He had brought a basket full of bread and cheese and some cold meat pies from the larder at Bag End, and they dined off of these in the fading evening light.

"I thought as we might get some apples from the trees outside," he told Frodo over dinner, "but I've had a look at 'em, and they're all withered up. A hundred years old at least! One of 'em's patched up from a great crack in the trunk." Sam shook his head sadly; he did not like to see damaged plants. "It've been better cut down and a new tree planted. There's not a fit piece of fruit to be found on any of the branches--naught but hard little crabs."

"You might take it up with Mr. Taggart when this business is finished," Frodo replied. "The family seems so ready to follow the advice of a professional investigator, I'm sure they'll be just as happy to have a good gardener's advice."

Robin returned at twilight, having forgone his regular visit to the Green Dragon. The party settled down in the darkness of the parlor, with the curtains drawn over the windows and no fire or candles lit.

"How d'you know they'll come tonight, Mr. Baggins?" Robin asked in a whisper.

"It might not be tonight," Frodo whispered in reply. "The news that the Fairbairns have left might not have reached them yet. But if they don't come tonight, it must be tomorrow or the next day." He peeked out through a gap in the curtains into the dark garden. "It can't be much longer than that."

"Why not, Mr. Baggins?" Robin asked him.

Frodo turned back from the window. "You know all that I do about this puzzle. You've seen much of it for yourselves, and I've told you and Sam what happened during my visit to the Chubbs' house. Can you figure it out?"

"Well... I've been puzzling it over in my mind," Sam answered, "and I think I've worked out a thing or two."

"I haven't," Robin declared. "I wish you'd tell us what this is about, Mr. Baggins. It's not the young lads, Mr. Wilcome and Mr. Sancho, is it?" he asked, reluctant to give his own pet theory up.

"No, Sherriff, but it was seeing my cousin Sancho at the Chubbs' that made me see it all clearly. You remember Sancho, Sam?"

"'Course I remember!" Sam huffed. "You mean, when you and Mr. Merry caught him knocking holes in the walls at Bag End to find Mr. Bilbo's dragon-gold."

"That's right," said Frodo.

"You mean they were shifting the furniture to get at the walls?" Robin asked eagerly. "The jewels are hidden somewhere in the walls?"

"Yes, exactly. At least, that's what our attempted thieves believe."

"Thieves? There's more'n one?"

"There must be at least two," Frodo replied. "You and Sam shifted that big chest of drawers--could one person do it alone?"

"It wouldn't be easy," Robin agreed. "But if it's not the lads, who is it-?" He stopped suddenly at a sound just outside the cottage.

The trio sat very still, listening to the creak as one of the bedroom windows was forced open, and the rustle of cloth as more than one person climbed in. They heard whispered voices, and the soft padding of feet. Then, there was a sharp scraping sound as some heavy piece of furniture was moved across the wooden floor. Loud taps on the floor soon followed.

"Let's go," Frodo whispered to his companions, and they rose and crept silently down the hall toward the master bedroom. The door was open. As they stood in the doorway, Sam lit a match and held it aloft to reveal the culprits.

Pola and Pella Windle stood frozen in the middle of the room, dazzled by the sudden flare of light. They had dragged the bed into the middle of the room. Their mother knelt in the spot where the bed had been, holding an umbrella ferrule in one hand to try and pry up the floorboards with it.

At the sight of the trio in the doorway, Mrs. Windle cried out, "Fly, my girls!" Her daughters, spurred to action, fled for the open window. Robin went after them, but the sherriff's path was blocked by the bed, and the girls had scrambled out the window before he could stop them.

The two girls flew across the garden, where they ran straight into Mrs. Broadbelt, who was waiting in the shadows of the tall rose bushes. She grabbed Pella and held the squirming girl by one arm; Pola went on a few more steps before she realized that her aunt also had her by the skirts, then she too stopped.

Sam helped Mrs. Windle to her feet and accompanied the lady to the window. At the sight of her sister, Mrs. Broadbelt smiled. "Why, Opal," she said dryly. "I understood you to say you would never come by this old place again."

"You said it was obvious," Sam said to Frodo the next day in the sitting room at Bag End. They had returned home after the Fairbairns had come back to the cottage that morning and heard what had happened. Frodo meant to visit his cousin Peony that afternoon to tell her how the investigation had turned out. "You guessed it was Mrs. Windle and her daughters right away, but we didn't see it at all."

Robin nodded in agreement. It was his day off duty, but he had reported to his Chief in Bywater before coming here; he had to tell Frodo how very pleased the Chief Shirriff was about the outcome of this most peculiar mystery and that he had sent Mr. Baggins his warmest regards. Robin also wanted to convey his own thanks to Frodo. "I would never have guessed what was going on without your help, Mr. Baggins. Will you tell us how you figured it out?"

Frodo smiled at this rather flattering appeal. "Well, it did seem obvious to me once I'd met all the family and considered who would be most likely to search for those jewels in the cottage."

"The whole family," said Robin. "They'd all want to find them, wouldn't they?"

"Yes, but Mr. Taggart owns the cottage and he lives just down the road," Frodo explained. "By his own account, it sat empty for months before he rented it to the Fairbairns. He and his wife had plenty of time to search for the jewelry and even knock holes in the walls and floors if they pleased without waiting to shift the Fairbairns' rugs and furnishings. Mrs. Broadbelt and Ruby Chubb also live nearby and could have searched before this. We know that they all did search the cottage after their mother's death, and came away unsatisfied. If Mrs. Broadbelt wanted to continue looking for them after the rest of the family had given up, I don't believe she'd sneak. She'd be quite frank about it. And if the Fairbairns were after the jewels, they could go about searching the cottage quietly and never draw attention to themselves."

Sam began to understand. "But Mrs. Windle-?"

Frodo nodded. "She hasn't been in the neighborhood for many years, and only came back to her family home a few weeks ago. She never had an opportunity to search for her mother's jewelry before. Besides, if Ruby or Mrs. Glora Taggart had found the jewelry, they couldn't hope to keep it secret unless they never wore any of the pieces. If they did, Mrs. Broadbelt would know about it and demand the return of her property. The famous emeralds are hers by rights and she'd be certain to want them back. Likewise, if Mrs. Broadbelt found the jewels and wanted to keep them all to herself, she couldn't wear the emeralds without the others knowing--and that's a sacrifice I don't think she'd be willing to make. But if Mrs. Windle found them, she could carry the jewelry box quietly back to Haysend and bring all the jewels out, even the emeralds, once she was home without her family ever hearing of it. She would eventually pass the whole lot on to her own daughters, and of course her daughters would see that as an incentive to help her search."

"I always said you was the cleverest hobbit in the Shire," Sam said appreciatively. "This just goes to prove it."

Frodo blushed, but he was gratified by the praise.

There was a knock on the door, and Sam got up to answer it. Mrs. Broadbelt, Mr. Taggart, and his daughter Medora had come by.

"We've just seen our sister Opal and her darling daughters off from Ruby's house," Mrs. Broadbelt told Frodo once Sam had shown the party into the sitting room. "They're leaving Bywater."

"I've agreed not to have them arrested if they returned to their own home immediately," Mr. Taggart added. "Opal's let it be known that her husband's been taken ill."

"I told her that we'd send her Mother's gold combs if they were ever found," said his sister with that same dry note she had used the night before. "It all she deserves--and more than she would have done for us."

"I showed the girls the cottage one day after they first came here, while Florrie and Jaro were out," Medora told her aunt and father. "They asked me if they could see it. I didn't think anything of it, 'til Mr. Baggins asked me about them yesterday. And Pola and Pella left me that afternoon long before tea-time. They must have gone straight to the cottage after Florrie and Jaro left it to shift things about. Oh, Aunt Nettie, I'm so sorry! I didn't know what they were up to. They seemed like such nice, friendly girls. I'm ashamed to have such awful cousins."

"Never mind, Meddy dear," her father said comfortingly. "They deceived us all."

"I never trusted Opal myself," said Mrs. Broadbelt. "She was always a sneaking sort of girl, even five-and-twenty years ago, and her daughters take after her."

"You knew they were responsible when you went to call on Ruby yesterday, didn't you?" Frodo asked her.

"I wondered, and I thought I would go and find out for myself," Mrs. Broadbelt responded. "Opal's too small to move huge chests and wardrobes alone, but the instant I saw those hearty-looking daughters of hers, I guessed the truth."

"But, Mr. Baggins," asked Medora, "where are Grandmother's jewels?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Frodo admitted.

"Perhaps we might better have let Opal and her girls go on searching until they found them," said Mrs. Broadbelt.

"I'm glad you didn't! You couldn't let them go around knocking holes in the walls looking for hiding places," said Bardo. "Nor do I want to do so myself, except as a last resort. Can you help us, Mr. Baggins?" he appealed to Frodo. "I'm ready to pay quite a good fee for your assistance."

Frodo didn't care about the fee, but he saw that he was only halfway through this mystery. He had helped Robin solve the problem of the break-in at the Fairbairns cottage; now, the children of the late Mrs. Taggart turned to him to find what the attempted thieves could not.

"I'll do what I can," he answered, "but I need to know more about your mother. If I know more of what she did in her last days, it might give me some clue as to where she hid her jewelry box." He thought for a minute. "You said that there was a maid who looked after her."

"You mean Dilly? But she doesn't know where the jewels are," said Bardo. "We asked her after Mother died--asked her many times, until I'm sure the poor old dear became addled with it. She's quite aged now, you know."

"Old Dilly must be at least 110!" his daughter agreed.

"Where is she now?" asked Frodo. "Can I speak to her?"

"She's here in Hobbiton," Mr. Taggart answered. "After Mother passed on, Dilly said she didn't have the heart to stay on at the cottage, and she went to live with her sister in a little bungalow in the Grange lane."

"You don't think she's carried them off?" Sam wondered.

"Preposterous!" exclaimed Mrs. Broadbelt. "Dilly was devoted to Mother. She wouldn't dream of betraying her trust and taking things that didn't belong to her... any more than I'm sure you would betray Mr. Baggins."

They all went down the hill together, and into the lane that led to the Old Grange. There was a row of bungalows in the lane, beneath the tall chestnut trees and half-buried in the deep piles of fallen russet leaves. Mrs. Broadbelt led them to the door at the end of the row, and knocked; a very old hobbit-lady answered, and looked astonished to see such a crowd on her doorstep.

"Why, Miss Nettie!" she cried. "And Mr. Bardo too! Whatever brings you here?"

"We've come about Mother's jewelry, Dilly," Mrs. Broadbelt told her.

Dilly invited them in and found chairs for as many as she could in the tiny parlor. While another ancient hobbit-lady made tea for their guests, Mr. Taggart introduced Frodo and explained his task.

The old lady stared at Frodo in wonderment. "You want to hear about Miss Julilla, young sir?"

"Miss Julilla?" asked Frodo. "Do you mean Mrs. Taggart?"

She nodded. "That's what she always was to me, even after she wed and was widowed, for I knew her since she was a girl, younger even'n Miss Medora here. I'll tell you what I can, but I've told Mr. Bardo and Miss Nettie the same before, time and again--I heard their poor mother speak of the list she made, saying who was to get which of her jewels when she passed on. She showed it to me once, though I was never much of one for reading and couldn't tell what she wrote on it. She put the list in her jewel-box, and that was the last I saw of it, and the box as well. I couldn't tell you what she did with 'em after that."

"When was that?" Frodo asked, crouching low before the chair in which the old lady had seated herself so that he could face her eye to eye.

"A week or two afore she passed, poor dear." Dilly shook her lace-capped head. "But I've told you that too," she glanced reproachfully up at Bardo.

Frodo tried another tack. "You've said that you knew Mrs. Taggart from girlhood. Do you know of any secret hideaways she might have kept about the cottage?" There were several hidey-holes in Bag End; Bilbo had shown him them all when he'd first come to live with him.

"There was one in the fireplace of the small bedroom, that was hers when she was a girl," Dilly replied after giving the question some consideration. "One of the stones was loose and there was a gap behind."

The others looked hopefully to Mr. Taggart and Mrs. Broadbelt, who both shook their heads. "We knew of it," said Bardo. "That room was our nursery too, and that space behind the loose stone was one of the first places we looked."

"Could there be anywhere else?" Frodo turned back to the elderly lady, trying to think of more questions to ask. "Did anything unusual happen in the days before she was taken ill? Was anyone called in to do work to the cottage? A carpenter, or a stone-mason? An ironmonger? Someone who might have been hired by Mrs. Taggart to make a safehold for her."

"No... None such as that came to the cottage. We only had a gardener in."

"A gardener?" Sam echoed.

"That's right," said Dilly. "Now, Miss Julilla liked to do her own work in the garden, as some ladies do, but as she got on in her years, she couldn't do as much as she used to." She turned to Frodo. "She was never ill as such, young sir. Her heart, it was, gave out sudden-like. She wasn't ill for a moment, but she was more weary towards the end and there was some things that was too much for her. She hired an old gardener from here in Hobbiton, as had come highly recommended to her."

"Not my old dad?" Sam asked, growing more interested and excited at this information. "Gaffer Gamgee? He lives just down the road, in Bagshot Row."

"Yes, that's him," answered Dilly. "Gamgee was the name."

---

The Gaffer was busy in his own small garden when they arrived at the bungalow. Sam alone went inside the gate to explain what the group of strangers waiting eagerly out in the lane with Frodo and Robin had come for. He asked his father the crucial question: "What work did Mrs. Taggart ask you to do for her?"

"It was an old apple tree," the Gaffer said after thinking about it for a minute or two. "Aye, I remember--the bole had split near in two and Mrs. Taggart wanted to know if it couldn't be patched. No good, I told her. Patch it up as you might, that tree wouldn't bear another bit of fruit fit to eat."

"Better to have it pulled up," said Sam, recalling his own assessment of the patched tree.

"That's what I said to her," his father agreed. "But Mrs. Taggart said she was that fond of it. It was her tree to do with as she liked, so I patched it up as she asked, had a look at the roses, and went on about my business."

With this information, the party returned to the cottage in Overhill with all haste. Medora raced home to summon her mother, while Florabel and Jaro joined the others in the garden. They gathered around the apple tree that grew beside the bedroom window; it was gnarled and bent, nearly fallen over, with only a few stunted reddish-brown apples on its drooping boughs. The trunk had split, and had been patched up expertly.

Frodo, self-conscious at the large, admiring audience he had drawn, hoping that they had not misplaced their trust, touched the patch tentatively and asked, "Have you a spade or trowel I can break this open with?"

Jaro pointed to a small potting shed at the bottom of the garden, and Sam went to fetch a trowel for Frodo. He chipped the patch away and, when he had broken through the seal, stood back to let Frodo reach inside. The others drew closer, murmuring eagerly in their growing excitement, as the young hobbit reached deep into the tree's trunk. The tree was dying inside, with soft, pulpy wood at its heart, and Frodo's fingers sunk into this softness, until he found a hollow space and touched some hard and square object. He grabbed it and, after a brief struggle, pulled out a carved wooden box.

"That's Mother's!" Mr. Taggart exclaimed.

Frodo opened it. A piece of paper lay folded on top and beneath it, each in a separate little partitioned section of the box, were a number of tiny black velvet bags tied shut with pieces of ribbon. He picked up one and undid the ribbon, then tumbled the contents into the palm of his hand. A gasp went up at the glittering gold and brilliant flashes of green that caught the sunlight.

Frodo turned to Mrs. Broadbelt and offered the necklace to her. "I believe," he said, "that this belongs to you."