A Rope to Hang Himself by Kathryn Ramage

The next morning, Sam set out alone for the Gamgee ropeyard. Uncle Andy was working in the yard, just as he had been yesterday, with his back deliberately to the rope that still hung from the tree. Sam spoke to him briefly, and found out that Ham was at work in the jute-house. His brother was busy pounding out the fibers that would be wound into the strands that formed a rope, but he looked up from his work when Sam came in, put down the poundstone, and mopped his brow and wiped his hands with a handkerchief as he asked, "What can I do for you, Sam? Have you found something out?"

"That we have," answered Sam. "Ham, we know you lied."

Ham sat up straight and stared at him blankly for a long moment before he asked, "What're you saying, Sam?"
That pause was enough to tell Sam that the story about the fight was true.

"Why didn't you tell me you quarreled with this Malbo just before he was killed? You said you didn't know him."

"I didn't!" Ham protested. "I never saw him more'n once or twice before that."

"Then what were you 'n' him brawling in the stableyards about?"

"Who told you about it?" Ham asked in response.

"Never you mind," Sam answered, reluctant to let his brother know that their kinsmen had carried tales to strangers. "Everybody that's at the Mousehole knew, and we'd get it out of one of 'em sooner or later. Now you tell me, Ham-"

"What's all this shouting about?" Uncle Andy had come to the jute-house's open door behind Sam and was peering from brother to brother anxiously.

"Oh, Sam thinks I hung that lad up in our own ropeyard and he's come to arrest me," Ham answered.

"I did not!" Sam cried out. "I only come to ask him some questions."

Uncle Andy was horrified even at this. "Questions? Come to question him like he was guilty o' murder? You must be mad, Samwise Gamgee--mad with power. You've got all high n' mighty with your Mr. Baggins and your shirriffing. It's gone to your head. You don't think your own brother's gone and done this murder, do you?"

"No, I don't," Sam insisted. "But the question's come up and it's got to be asked. I'm bound to ask it," he appealed to Ham. "If I don't, Frodo will."

"Does he think I did it, Sam?" Ham asked quietly.

"He hasn't decided yet," Sam admitted. "He says we have to consider everybody that looks like they got a reason, even when it's family." His face was growing very red. "I've told it to 'm often enough when it was his own Brandybuck cousins, even Master Merry, and I can't go and say it's different now because it's my brother this time. You see that, don't you? It looks bad when you keep things like that back--maybe worse'n it is. If there's nothing in it, then there's nothing to be scared of. And if there's something..." he gulped. "Well, if there's something in it, maybe I can help. If it's not murder, then it isn't so bad."

Uncle Andy shook his head. "Mad," he muttered. "What's your brother got to do with the Brandybucks? You know 'm better'n you know such folk."

But Ham said, "I see it, Sam. Well, as it happens, I didn't murder anybody. I hope if I did, I wouldn't be fool enough to go and do it in my own yard with my own bit o' rope."

"Then what was that fight about?" Sam asked him.

"I'd better tell you." Ham took his brother by the arm and they went outside. "I didn't hardly know Malbo, Sam," he said after they'd walked some distance away from their indignant uncle. "I don't play the games him and those other lads did--I never saw the sense in throwing away good money. But I knew he was a one to go chasing after girls. You heard about that?"

Sam nodded. "Frodo thinks there's a girl behind it all."

"I don't know about that," said Ham, "but there's a girl behind why I hit him that night. He'd made up to Maisie, Mr. Bloomer's daughter at the Mousehole."

"Maisie?" echoed Sam.

"You've seen her, Sam. She's a right pretty girl, and that Malbo was always after her to go out walking with him. She said 'No,' but he wasn't the sort to take 'No' for an answer. That one night when she was coming back from taking her little brother his dinner out at the stable, he was there in the yard waiting for her. Now, I don't know just what he said to her, but I heard her cry out when I was coming out of the Mousehole and going past the stableyard gate--I saw he was holding her by the arm and she didn't like it, so I went in and made 'm let go. He said it was no business of mine, but I saw it different. I gave him a punch in the nose, and then we started fighting. Maisie got her brother Mose to break it up, and I guess some of the other lads in the taproom came out and saw us then too. I didn't notice. Once I saw Malbo sent off, I went home myself. The next time I saw him was when..." Ham turned to look at the noose dangling from the tree branch. "He was hanging there."

"This Maisie..." Sam ventured, recalling now how his brother had spoken of her when they'd met at the Mousehole. "Are you sweet on her, Ham?"

"Not as she'd notice," Ham said glumly. "It's an embarrassment, Sam. I'm the eldest, and there's you and Halfred and the girls, even Marigold now, married before me and having children! It looks like I'll end up like Uncle Andy, and never wed. Who'm I going to teach the trade to and leave to tend this ropeyard after I'm gone?"

"You haven't spoke to her?"

Ham shook his head. "Before this fight with Malbo, I didn't dare. A pretty girl like Maisie must hear such lovesome-talk from lads all day, and not all of it from the likes o' him. And now he's dead... well, it's come between us. Maybe she don't think I did it, but there are those that do. I know it! I see the way they look at me when I go into town. That's why I called on you and Mr. Frodo. I thought as you'd straighten matters out, but right now it looks like you're as lost as I am."

Frodo might not be lost, but Sam had to agree that he felt that way. He had no idea who could have hung Malbo up in his brother's and uncle's ropeyard, but since he'd talked to Ham, he was sure it wasn't his brother. He believed every word Ham had said and he would stand by him no matter what came next.




"It isn't that Miss Petula at all--it's Maisie he's sweet on. She don't know it. He's never said a word to her," Sam reported to Frodo once he'd returned to the inn and told him of Ham's account of the fight.

"She knows it," said Frodo, smiling slightly. "When I first spoke to her about Malbo, I learned that she wouldn't have a thing to do with him because she had somebody else in mind, but she wouldn't say who. I thought it might be Tully Digby, but now I believe your brother makes more sense. If she hadn't noticed him before, I'm sure his defense of her must've made a favorable impression. I'm not surprised to hear that your brother's never courted her, Sam. You Gamgee lads are so timid in romance." He was still smiling. "In my experience, you need a good push to start you off in the right direction."

Sam was relieved that Frodo was teasing him; he too must accept Ham's story as the truth. "You don't think it's him then?"

"Oh, it's possible, I suppose. We ought to keep all possibilities in mind," Frodo answered, "but there's something very odd about this murder that doesn't fit anything we've learned so far. Malbo was hanged. Not beaten or stabbed or shoved into a stream. This wasn't an act of momentary rage. Someone took him all the way out to Tighfield that night to put a noose around his neck. Why?"

"To make it look like he did himself in?" said Sam.

"Perhaps, though if that was the plan, it didn't work. Everyone who saw the way that rope was wound around the tree spotted immediately that it was tied after Malbo was pulled up." Frodo's eyes were alight with an idea. "Sam, I've been thinking: What if it were an execution? He was taken to that place and hanged deliberately for a crime his murderers thought he would never be brought to justice for? But if that's so, what did he do that was so bad? We haven't found it out yet. He cheated at games and tricked free ales out of a dim-witted bar-tender. He borrowed money and never repaid it. He stole apples and corn and small valuables from his employers. He flirted with girls, chased them, but did he force himself on one unwillingly? None that we know of, even the unfortunate Tessa, and her brother would be more likely to thrash Malbo or make him marry Tessa than execute him."

"What about Maisie? He grabbed her arm, Ham said."

"But your brother put a stop to that before it had gone farther. If there were anything worse that had happened to her or anybody else, I think we would've heard a hint of it by now."

"Maybe Pippin and Master Merry've heard something."

"Yes, that's so. We'll have to arrange a discrete conversation with them this afternoon. I also want to find out a bit about Malbo's history. He only came to Gamwich last summer. Where was he from? What other villages did he take work in? Did anyone here know him before he came to town? While you were out this morning, I paid a visit to Mr. Holeman, but he could tell me little. It seems Malbo was quite a traveler. If we want to find out more, we'll have to ask his friends."
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