"I'd like to say Ted's put'm up to it," Sam said as they left the Inn. "That's how Hasty is--If Ted says it's Nelda, Hasty'll take his word for it."
"That's so," Robin agreed. "Only there's that bit of red cloth Hasty says he tore from Nelda's cloak. If it's not from her, where'd he get it?"
"Could it have come from another person?" wondered Frodo. "You saw the other girl, Laurel, and her brother, Sherriff--What were they wearing?"
"Not red. Miss Laurel was in yellow 'n' blue. I didn't notice her brother so much, but whatever he was wearing, it was dark-colored. It wasn't from either o' them. It looks like Ted's right," Robin concluded glumly. He didn't like Ted any better than Sam did, and didn't want him to be right.
"Nevertheless, I think we ought to speak to Nelda before we make any assumptions," Frodo said. "I want to hear what she has to say."
"So do I, Mr. Baggins," said Robin. "I'll let you know when I find her." He gave Sam, and then Frodo, another curious look, then went off, leaving them standing by the Inn's front door. A few other people also glanced their way.
The commotion around the Green had died down once the principal parties had been taken away, and the festival was slowly being resumed. The musicians had started playing again, but no one was dancing yet. People stood in groups, talking excitedly about the incident. From what Frodo could hear, opinion seemed to be divided three ways: some agreed with Robin's first assessment and said it must have been Laurel; others, who had heard reports of Ted's and Hasty's accusations, agreed that it must be Nelda; the third group believed that some wandering ruffian was going around pushing people into ponds and such things oughtn't be allowed.
As if she'd been waiting for the sherriff to depart, a girl peeked out from around the curving wall of the Inn, then emerged from the shadows and raised a hand to draw Sam's attention. It was not Nelda, but Sam's sister, Marigold.
"Is it true what they're saying?" she hissed at her brother once he and Frodo had come closer. "Hasty's said it was Nelda who pushed him in?"
"Yes, that's right," Sam answered.
"But it isn't!" the girl protested. "Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo-" she bobbed a quick and apologetic curtsey, "but if you 'n' Sam're meaning to help Robin Smallburrows catch her, then you're doing wrong. Nelda didn't do it."
"I only want to learn the truth of the matter," Frodo assured her. "Where is Nelda? Have you seen her?"
Marigold cast an anxious glance back in the direction she had come. "You promise you won't give her away... on your honor as a gentleman?"
"On my honor," Frodo promised.
"Me 'n' Rosie have her." Marigold told him. "When we heard that Hasty was saying she did it, we thought it best to take her someplace safe and out of sight."
"Will you take us to her?" Frodo requested.
Marigold nodded, and led them around the long, low wing of the Inn, past the stableyard at the back, to a darkened grove of trees where a girl in a red cloak sat sobbing on a bench. The only light came from the rising moon and a few lit candles and fires that cast a soft reddish glow through the windows at the back of the Inn, but it was enough for Frodo to recognize her as the one he'd seen scorned by a boy--Hastred?--for another girl earlier this evening. He would have paid more attention had he known how important that little incident would become!
Rosie was keeping watch over Nelda; at the sound of people approaching, she leapt to her feet, then relaxed as Marigold brought Sam and Frodo into the grove.
"I'm glad you've come. It's all right, Nelda," she reassured her friend. "Mr. Frodo'll help--you'll see." She gave Frodo a curtsey. "You will help, won't you, Mr. Frodo? Marigold and me thought it best to send for you when we heard Nelda was in trouble. We're always a-hearing how you look into people's troubles. Sam says you're the cleverest hobbit in the Shire, and you've got plenty of folk out of worse fixes'n this." She didn't sneer about his investigations as Ted Sandyman had, but Frodo thought he heard something of a challenge in her request for his help. She was probably sick of hearing Sam praise him, and now that her friend was in trouble, wanted to see what he could really do.
"I will do my best," he told her, and fished a match out of his coat pocket to make a torch from a loose stick of wood and provide a little more light. He stepped closer to Nelda, who blotted her eyes with a streamer from her shredded cloak and regarded him hopefully. "Will you answer a few questions, Miss Milkwort? Where were you when Hastred was pushed?"
"I was heading for home," answered the girl. "I didn't want to be at the festival anymore, not after Hasty put me off to dance with that awful Laurel Deeproot! If I pushed anybody into the Pool, it would've been her--but I didn't, Mr. Baggins! I wasn't anywhere near! I was halfway to home when I heard the shouting and came back to the Green to see what'd happened."
"That's when we found her, Mr. Frodo," Marigold supported this statement. "And then we heard what people was saying. Ted Sandyman was saying it the minute he heard it was Hasty who'd been dunked. I saw him crossing the Green to the Inn, shouting it must be Nelda."
"He's lying!" Nelda cried.
"Ted would lie," Rosie agreed, "'specially if he could get back at Nelda."
"Why?" asked Sam. "What's he got against her?"
"Oh, didn't you know?" his sister said. "Ted Sandyman's been chasing after Nelda since before she kept company with Hasty, but she wouldn't have a thing to do with him."
"I wouldn't," Nelda insisted, "not if he was the last hobbit-lad in the Shire. And you see how he serves me out!"
"Did Ted put Hasty up to saying it was Nelda, Sam?" Rosie asked.
Sam was about to tell her about the strip of cloth Hasty had seized from the person who'd pushed him in, when Frodo caught his eye and shook his head quickly; he didn't want the girls to know about that yet. Sam shut his mouth.
"Will you stand up, please?" Frodo asked Nelda. "I'd like to have a look at your costume." He made a little give-us-a-turn gesture.
"As you like, Mr. Baggins." Nelda looked puzzled by this request, but rose and turned slowly to show Frodo her costume. Her hooded red cloak had been slashed to ribbons from the shoulders, but each strip was long and even, with no sign of tearing. None of the strips were missing. The red flannel belt with more long streamers that Nelda wore tied about her waist to cover her skirt was likewise whole.
"Thank you," said Frodo. "One last question, Miss Milkwort..." But how to ask it tactfully? He knew that the poorer hobbits of Bywater, as Nelda's family was, wouldn't dream of burning a good piece of cloth while it was still serviceable, and would certainly never create and destroy a new Tatters costume each year. "Do you keep your same costume and wear it from year to year?"
Nelda nodded. "I've worn this one three years now, since my best red cloak wasn't best anymore."
"Would your friends know that you'd be wearing it tonight?"
"We knew she would," said Marigold, and Rosie agreed.
"What about Hastred and Ted?"
"Hasty might," Nelda answered after thinking about it. "When I wore it at last year's Tatters, he danced with me then."
"You believe her, don't you, Mr. Frodo?" asked Rosie anxiously.
"Yes, I do," he answered, then turned to Sam. "Will you find Sherriff Smallburrows-" There was an alarmed outcry from all three girls, and Frodo waved for them to calm down. "Tell him I've a good idea what happened here tonight, and he needn't trouble Miss Milkwort. I'm certain she wasn't involved. Don't be afraid," he told Nelda. "It's going to be all right." And, still bearing his impromptu torch, he headed out of the grove.
"And where're you going?" asked Sam.
"To see if my idea is correct!"
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