They returned to the dell. While Sam stood keeping watch below, Frodo scrambled up into the oak tree and carefully made his way out onto the same bough Sam and the elusive MB had stood on earlier in the day. From this leafy perch, he could look directly down into the dell at the spot where he and Sam had lain in the grass, as well as over the fence and into the pony pens, which were now empty since most of the ponies, their owners, and the racing fanciers had gone out onto the field. But there was more. By turning in the opposite direction, he could also glimpse the Brandywine through the trees. Grasping the branches above him and stretching carefully up on tip-toe, he obtained a good view of a long, flat stretch of dried mud-flat on the western bank, where people who had come to the races by way of the river had brought their boats ashore.
"What d'you see up there?" Sam shouted.
"Just what I hoped to: The answer to this riddle, Sam!" Frodo made his way down the trunk of the tree and leapt to the ground. "It has nothing to do with the ponies at all. Come along--we have a handkerchief to return to its owner."
The first race was already in progress. By the time they reached the field, the ponies had left the starting post and were rapidly moving out of sight. The racing course ran straight for half a mile, then the ponies would turn and come back toward the cheering spectators gathered at this end. A few hobbits had gone farther down the field or had climbed up into the trees for a better view of the full race, but most agreed that the beginning and end were the most exciting parts, and preferred to enjoy the proceedings seated in one comfortable spot in the shade with a picnic basket at hand. Frodo left Sam by the pony-pen and picked his way through the crowd, carefully treading between numerous blankets spread on the grass and occasionally murmuring apologies for blocking someone's view. Along the way, he nearly tripped over one of the Binglebottoms, who were not seated with Ludovic's friends, but were sharing their lunch with two rather pretty, giggling young ladies in beribboned bonnets.
Merry was seated on such a blanket with the sulky Moro and Marly; Pippin and Diantha were standing nearby among the more active spectators, shouting for Candlestick to go faster. While everyone else's eyes were on the racing field, Merry's were on the two young Tooks. He wasn't interested in the outcome of the race. Once Frodo reached his cousin and asked if they could have a private word, Merry didn't protest but came with him.
"What is it you want, Frodo?" Merry asked once they were at the spot where Sam stood waiting for Frodo's return.
Frodo took out the monogrammed handkerchief and offered it to his cousin. "I think you dropped this."
Merry checked his waistcoat pocket. "Yes, it's mine. Where did you find it?"
"It must have fallen out of your pocket while you were up in that oak tree, spying on Pippin and Di."
Merry didn't deny this, but put the handkerchief into his pocket. "I didn't mean to disturb you and Sam," he apologized instead. "I tried not to."
"You knew about the dell?" asked Frodo.
"From last year," his cousin answered, and smiled with something like his normal sense of humor. "Between the races, Pip and I went there with the same idea you had today."
"How did you know that Pippin was meeting Di?"
"He wrote me last week to say he was going to join us for the Bridgefield races, and that Diantha was coming too. He gave me all his travel plans, just as he told them to you. I saw him when he arrived, just after you two went off, but he didn't see me. He headed straight into the trees and I guessed where he was going. I meant to follow him at first, then I realized he would've seen me on the path to the river's edge and would've wanted me to come with him to greet her."
"But that wasn't what you were after," said Frodo. "You wanted to see how he and Di behaved when they were alone together."
Merry nodded.
"Did you see anything between them to worry you?"
"No," Merry admitted. "Pip sat there on the bank until she came rowing up, then he started waving his arms and jumping up and down, and he waded out to help her bring her boat ashore. They didn't hug or kiss or anything of that sort, but both began talking and laughing at once. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I was wild to find out, so I climbed down as quickly as I could--I suppose that's when I lost this." He patted the pocket that contained the handkerchief. "I went 'round behind the pony-pen to go and meet them at the riverside. They were happy to see me. At least, they were still laughing when they saw me. They laugh a lot." His expression grew somber as he recalled how he and Pippin had once laughed together all the time too.
"There, you see how it is," said Frodo. "Both of them declare there's nothing in this betrothal but a desire to keep Pippin's parents from matching him up with other girls. You've no reason to disbelieve them, Merry. They aren't liars--I would say, rather the opposite. They're too indiscreet with their secrets and are painfully obvious when they have something to conceal. I'm surprised one or the other hasn't blurted the truth of the matter out to their families by now. Pippin truly doesn't care for her in that way, and she only regards him as a friend. You've only to listen to the way the two of them talk about this betrothal of theirs. It's a glorious prank to them, no more."
"I know," said Merry. "But all the same..."
"You must stop being so suspicious," Frodo told him. "Both Sam and I can tell you what that sort of jealousy does to a friendship." He looked to Sam, who nodded reluctantly in agreement; he had once been as jealous and suspicious of Frodo's relationship with Merry. "No good can come of it. It eats away at you like a poison, making you sick and miserable, and it won't help you with Pip if you go on behaving like this. It'll only make him unhappy too if he feels he has to choose between the two of you. You know that he won't find it appealing to be around someone who's always making him feel bad, when all he wants is fun." Frodo regarded his cousin with concern. "What's happened, Merry? You used to have fun."
"Used to," Merry echoed glumly, "but that was before I became Master and had to be respectable all the time. It wears on a fellow, Frodo! I feel as if I have the burden of Buckland weighing me down. Hundreds of hobbits, all depending on me."
"You're not in Buckland today, my dear," Frodo said sympathetically, and patted Merry's arm. "All the Bucklanders can manage for a few hours without you. So why don't you go and have a little fun with Pip while you can? And if you're wise, you'll make a friend of Di, instead of a rival."
Although he didn't entirely like this last part of Frodo's advice, Merry couldn't argue with it. He made his way over to the two young Tooks. He spoke to them; Frodo and Sam were too far away to hear what he said, but it made Pippin and Diantha laugh. Then all three turned their attention to the ponies, which were returning from the far end of the field. A great shout rose from the crowd.
"Don't you want to go see who won?" asked Sam. He was craning to peer over the heads of the intervening hobbits to spot the winning pony; Frodo, on the other hand, was wandering away.
"No," said Frodo. "If it's Candlestick, Milo will tell me all about it later. If it isn't... Well, maybe Marly will have some good news. I'd much rather return to what we were doing before this business with MB's handkerchief interrupted us--if you'd care to accompany me, Sam? With the races started, I'm certain that no one will be there to interrupt us again, nor will anyone miss us for some time."
Frodo turned and headed toward the dell. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Sam hastened to catch up with him.
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