Milo, Lad, and Angelica were delighted when Frodo brought back their stolen pony, once they understood that it was indeed Fleetfoot he was riding. The rain had washed off enough of the soot so that the patches of white coat beneath were now dirty grey. Moro and Sandy came running out of the stables with happy shouts. Mosco emerged from the house to race down the hill, threw his arms around Fleetfoot's neck, mindless of getting wet soot all over himself, and burst into tears. While Milo sent the boys to fetch soap and warm water and plenty of brushes to clean the mess off Fleetfoot and themselves, Sam fussed over Frodo's ruined trousers, which were as covered in soot as the pony he'd ridden bareback.
"And you smell like a bonfire, Frodo dear," observed Angelica.
"I know. It was that, and the fact that Fleetfoot knew us, that made me understand what had happened. The soot-barrel in the Longchalks' stableyard confirmed it," Frodo answered cheerfully, but he consented to go and have a bath himself before he explained these cryptic remarks.
After his bath, sitting in his dressing gown and having a cup of tea before dinner, Frodo told the story of how he had discovered Fleetfoot to his cousins.
"So it was the Longchalks!" said Lad. "But what I don't understand is why they left Fleety out where someone was sure to see him. They might just as easily have hidden him in their stables or another field miles from town."
"I think they did at first. I'm sure he was in their stable yesterday, and just as sure that Urgo came home ahead of his brothers this afternoon to turn Fleetfoot loose so they could claim they didn't know of his whereabouts. Urgo hinted as much to me when he invited us to look around their stables. He expected Fleet would be found wandering eventually. Perhaps he even hoped that the coming rain would wash Fleetfoot clean of the soot they'd used to disguise him before he was found. I believe they let him go because it no longer served their purpose to keep him. Something else, very important, happened at the races today, that they hadn't foreseen."
"Candlestick won two races," said Milo with satisfaction.
"Precisely," said Frodo. "They didn't know about the colt when they took Fleetfoot, and after he did so well, they had little reason to hold Fleetfoot anymore. The theft of a pony is very serious. But poor Fleet's condition when I found him, and that barrel of soot provide enough proof for you to make an accusation against them, if you wish to."
"Well, I don't care so much about that, now that Fleetfoot's back with us unharmed," Lad said generously. "If he's up to it, we might even run him tomorrow."
While Lad and Milo discussed the pony's state of health and prospects for the rest of the Lithetide holiday, Frodo went back to his room to dress for dinner. As he dressed, he began to form a plan.
"I have a request," he said to the others as he joined them at the table. "I'd like to sit out in the stable tonight and keep watch--Sam and I. We'll take the boys' place in the loft."
"But why? Do you think they might try to steal Fleetfoot again?" asked Angelica.
"It's possible," Frodo answered after a slight hesitation. "But this time, they might be after Candlestick, now that they've seen him run. I want to be ready to catch them at it."
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