Later that evening, Sam went out to the Green Dragon with Merry and Pippin to pick up gossip. They had discussed their plans, and all agreed that this would be the most effective way to get information. Hobbits loved few things more than talking about their neighbors' comings and goings--and surely all of Hobbiton was talking about this. Why not take advantage of it, and learn as much as they could?
At the Green Dragon, the three soon separated. The tavern was busy that evening, and crowded. They made their way to the bar together, but while Merry and Pippin were obtaining their first half-pints of ale from the maid on duty, a sturdy, dark-curled hobbit at a table in the far corner began to wave eagerly to draw their attention.
"Pip! Merry! Over here!"
It was Milo Burrows, Frodo's first cousin on the Brandybuck side, and therefore a first cousin once-removed to Merry and a more distant cousin to Pippin. He was about 15 years their senior and bore a strong resemblance to Frodo, enough that he might be taken for Frodo's more solidly-built older brother. His wife, Peony, was Frodo's second cousin on the Baggins side. Sitting with Milo was Lad Whitfoot, the Mayor's son, a large and somewhat thick-headed, but good-hearted boy. Since Lad and Milo were old friends, and as good a point as any to begin the evening's work, the two picked up their mugs of ale and went over to join them.
"Hullo!" Milo greeted them. "I haven't seen either of you in awhile. I was so sorry to hear about your recent family tragedy in Buckland, Merry, but I'm glad to see you've come through it all right." If he had heard anything else about the tragedy or its aftermath, Milo did not allude to it. "What brings you lads to Hobbiton?"
"We're visiting Frodo," Merry explained as he and Pippin seated themselves. "You're not usually in this neighborhood yourself."
"I'm here to look at some ponies," said Lad.
"Lad's- ah- helping me pick out a new one," Milo explained. "We're going to take it to the races at Michel Delving in June."
Lad nodded in agreement. "The one Milo had last year wasn't any good--but we'll do better this season!"
Merry and Pippin nodded knowingly. The races were a popular pastime; during the summer months, farmers and gentlehobbits from all over the Shire would bring their best ponies on designated days to run the length of the Michel Delving fairground field. It was not unheard of for wagers to be made over which pony was the fastest. They had been there a few times themselves, though they were not as keen on the sport as some of the other young hobbits. Lad was particularly well known as having a good eye for a swift pony.
"What about you, Milo?" asked Pippin. "Are you here just for the ponies too?" The Burrowses' home was in the Eastfarthing, near Frogmorton.
"Actually, Peony and I are living in Hobbiton now," Milo answered. "We're staying at Aunt Dora's, helping to look after her." Dora, the elder sister of Frodo's father, was the oldest living Baggins apart from the long-absent Bilbo. "She's grown a bit dotty now that she's so advanced in years. Angelica's been staying with her, but the old lady's gotten to be a bit much for the girl to manage by herself, and a pretty girl like our Angelica can't be sitting at home all the time. She's got to have her social life--isn't that right, Laddie?"
Lad blushed and sipped his ale.
"Have you been around Hobbiton long?" Pippin asked both. "What's the latest news? Anything interesting going on?"
"As a matter of fact, we've been having a good bit of excitement here," Lad answered. "Milo and I were just talking about it."
"About what?" Pippin prompted.
"Nothing so horrible as the Brandybucks have suffered," Milo said after a moment's hesitation. "Staying with Frodo, you might've heard already: Lotho's disappeared."
"Yes, we've heard something of it," Merry said disingenuously.
"No one knows what's happened to him," said Lad. "The sherriffs are going about asking all kinds of questions--who saw Pimple last, who's been having quarrels with him, who'd like to be rid of him, and so on."
"We had one at the house this morning." With a glance at Robin Smallburrows, who was seated near the bar, Milo lowered his voice. "They'd heard that Peony and I had had some problems with Lotho."
"Did you want to get rid of him, Milo?" Pippin asked. Merry shot him a sharp look for so obviously pumping for information, but Pippin ignored it. Sometimes, the direct approach was the most effective when you wanted to find things out.
Milo's face went red, but he laughed at the question. "Not badly enough to do anything about it! I wish him no harm, but frankly, I wouldn't mind if he did go away and we never had to hear from him again, for Peony's sake."
"What's he done to Peony?" Pippin went on pumping.
"Oh, it's nothing really," Milo insisted dismissively. "A property dispute over some land up between Needlehole and Nobottle that's been in the Baggins family for ages. Lobelia seems to think it should have gone to her husband and, through him, to Lotho, instead of portioned out to Peony and her brothers after their father died last year. I imagine Frodo has some claim to it as well, but he has no reason to bother himself about a few acres of farmland miles away to the north. He's got Bag End and no children to provide for. We've got our four little ones to think of.
"I thought that the matter had been settled last summer, until Lotho started fussing about it again a couple of months ago. Lobelia may have given up, but Pimple wants that bit of land badly enough to put up a fight for it. He's been sending us letters, making threats of going to law, making a nuisance of himself..."
"What's so special about it?" Merry asked, intrigued.
"Not a thing! It's only recently that I learned- Well, I'd guessed what Lotho wants it for."
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