Although Frodo had asked him to look around the Hall property and talk to any servants he happened to meet, investigation was not the foremost thing on Sam's mind when he'd struck up a conversation with Mr. Rakeweed ten minutes earlier. After viewing the gardens, Sam was naturally eager to speak with the gardener responsible for such magnificent grounds, and hastened to give the elderly hobbit a hand with the wheelbarrow full of mulch he was carting across the front lawn.
"'Though I like a garden that's got a bit more hill to it," Sam concluded his compliments. "The soil drains better downhill."
"Aye, it does," Mr. Rakeweed agreed, "but when you've been on a place like this as long as I've been, you get to learn its little tricks." He considered Sam slowly, but with curiosity. "Gardener yourself, are you, lad?"
"Yes, sir." They were soon in a mutually pleasant and instructive discussion of different types of soil, how well each held moisture, and which plants grew best where. Sam was much more comfortable talking about gardening than he was about ponies. He was in his element here. The old hobbit reminded him so much of his own father that he knelt on the lawn beside Mr. Rakeweed to help him weed the flower beds and bank them with handfuls of mulch just as readily as he'd always helped the Gaffer.
After awhile, Mr. Rakeweed sat back, got out his pipe, considered Sam again, and chuckled. "When I was getting my morning mug o' tea, I heard tell from them as works in the kitchens how Missus Verbena'd brought in that detective fellow to look for the young Missus. If you're him, my lad, you're naught like I thought you'd be! 'Tis a pleasure talking t'you."
Sam blushed, as he always did when people assumed that he was the famous investigator, and hastened to correct the assumption. "No, 'm not him--I only came here with him today. He's in the Hall now, talking with Mrs. Stillwaters... about the troubles." He wondered how much the old gardener knew. After he'd said too much to Fatty Bolger last night, and upset Frodo, Sam was anxious not to give anything away this time.
"I could tell 'm a thing or two, if I'd a mind to," said Mr. Rakeweed.
"Could you?"
Mr. Rakeweed nodded, and looked pleased with himself as Sam waited for him to say more. At last, the old hobbit went on: "I told the Missus myself, 'bout the lad I saw off in the orchard-" he waved his pipe in the direction of the trees beyond the Hall, "the same night as the young Missus was last seen. I seen the two of 'em there, talking-like, and then they walked off by way of the Brandywine."
"Are we that close to the river?" Sam asked, surprised.
"It runs not five miles from where we're sitting," Mr. Rakeweed answered. "Take the lane on t'other side of the orchard, and you'll be there in ten minutes."
"This lad, d'you know who he was?"
"'Twas too dark to see his face, but I guess I know. I seen the lad afore, about the Hall grounds. Mr. Val or the old Missus hired him to help turn up the flower beds 'round the ponds for spring planting. There's a lot of 'em, as you see, and more behind the house. Missus Verbena'll bring a young lad or two in to do the work when the job's too hard on my old back. All this stooping and kneeling's hard on a back when you get to be my age. I don't mind 'em coming in, so long as they keep out from underfoot and the job's done proper."
"And was it done proper?" Sam looked at the flower beds around them; the late-summer flowers seemed to be growing beautifully, and were very nicely arranged.
"Some bits better'n others," Mr. Rakeweed grunted, and Sam wondered if he minded more about the younger gardener than he let on. "Some o' the bulbs in the back-garden grew up every-which way, as if the lad popped 'em in willy-nilly. I expect he didn't think it mattered so much 'round behind the house where nobody'd see."
"You told Mrs. Stillwaters about this lad?" he asked. And had she told Frodo?
"That I did. Now, Missus Verbena han't gone telling tales about it, but I can guess for myself what that lad was about with young Missus." He chuckled grimly. "I'll wager anything he's made off with her! What was they headed to the Brandywine for? He tossed her in! Mark my words--she'll wash up downriver sooner or later. They always do."
And that was when Sam saw Frodo come around from behind the house.
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