At midday, all parties concerned assembled in the common room. The four men who had been robbed were at the bar, and the two wives were at a table nearby. The troupe had gathered at the other end of the room, in wary opposition to them. Pim was seated beside Campion with his family, holding his hand; if she had not declared her feelings for him before, her protectiveness today had brought them out into the open. Willowbright and his daughter had brought their dogs, in case the Sarties were inclined to make more trouble. The two young man glared, and Mr. Grimmold glared back at them, but no one spoke nor moved from their seats.
Mr. Butterbur, who had placed himself as an uneasy buffer between the two groups, looked extremely relieved when the three hobbits came in. "Well, Mr. Baggins?"
"You'll be happy to know that we've found your things," Frodo announced and gestured to Merry; his cousin stepped forward to put the sooty bundle down on an unoccupied table in the middle of the room, and opened it to reveal the stolen items within: two purses, a knife with a jeweled hilt, a garnet ring, cloak pins and other trinkets, and a small wooden box.
There was an outpouring of surprised cries and expressions of amazement. The group at the bar were on their feet. Mrs. Tillerman came forward to pick up her ring. "I didn't believe you could do it," she told Frodo. "This is wonderful! Where on earth did you find this bag?"
"It was tucked into a chimney atop the inn. Actually, my cousin Pippin discovered it." Frodo smiled at Pippin, who had quietly taken a seat beside Mr. Grimmold. "Finding it confirmed what I already suspected: the thief came into your rooms by way of the roof, and had to leave this bundle there to be called for later."
"But where did he go?" asked Mr. Butterbur. "How did he get down?"
"He didn't, not until the next morning." Frodo looked up at the group of travelers who had drawn closer around the opened bundle. "These are all your things, aren't they? Is anything missing?"
"This is my cloak," Mr. Wetleaf identified the cloth the stolen property had been wrapped in, "but I don't see our purse here."
"Of course not," said Frodo. "You've had it with you all the time."
"Wh- What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Wetleaf. "It was stolen from our room last night. Do you say we still have our money?"
"I don't." Her husband touched his belt, where a purse would normally be tied, then patted his jerkin; a puzzled look came over his face as his hands touched his hips, but he said, "You see, Mr. Baggins, I haven't got a penny."
"Not now, no, but you did have it less than an hour ago, when I asked my cousin to see if he could take it off you. Pippin-?"
Pippin stood up and, with a dramatic gesture--one of the tricks Mr. Grimmold had taught him--a little draw-stringed purse appeared in his hand as if he'd pulled it out of the air.
"Mr. Butterbur, will you confirm that this is the same purse that Mr. Wetleaf had with him when he paid for a round of ales in this room last night?" Frodo asked.
"To be sure, it looks like it," the innkeeper answered, goggling at the purse, "but one purse looks so much like any other."
Frodo could see that Mr. Butterbur wasn't going to be much help as a witness. "It doesn't matter. My cousin Merry and the locksmith you visited this morning will swear that you had it then. Shall we invite the locksmith here to ask him what you were after, or shall I guess? Was it the means to open this box?" He picked it up from the table.
"They were after our box?" demanded Nikal.
"I believe it's what prompted the theft. They must have heard you speak of it--perhaps last night, when you sat here, sharing rounds of ale? At any rate, all that ale made you quite peaceable for a sound night's sleep, and you never stirred when Mr. Wetleaf came in your window to steal the box. The rest of it was only taken to hide that fact, and make it appear as an ordinary burglary."
The Wetleafs, Frodo noted, had not protested any of this. Since Pippin had produced their purse, the couple only stood white-faced and silent, staring at him.
"But however did you know?" asked Mr. Butterbur. "I was sure it was those Trufoots, for certain!"
"What about that scrap of Campion's acrobatic clothes caught in the window?" Mr. Grimmold asked. "I was afraid it was all over when you found that."
"So did I," said Campion, "and I knew I wasn't there!"
"Actually, that little scrap of cloth was just what made me first doubt it was you," Frodo answered. "The cloth wasn't just torn on the window-hinge, but wound about it tightly, to be sure it wouldn't fall off before it was found. It looked as if it were put there deliberately."
"We found the place where you really tore your trousers, Cam, on the rope-walking pole, just as Larkspur said," Pim told him.
"That was also when I began to suspect the Wetleafs," Frodo went on. "Who better to put the scrap there than the people in that room?" He turned to Mrs. Wetleaf, "Did you notice when Campion tore his costume last night, and took it down then? I know it was you who did it, not your husband. The pointed toes of your boots left prints plain to see." Mrs. Wetleaf was also about five feet tall and would have to stretch up to reach the top of a seven-foot pole. "Was it finding that scrap that put the idea to blame the Trufoots into your head, or did you think of it earlier, while you were watching them perform, and finding that scrap was a piece of luck?" He brightened with sudden understanding. "I believe you must've found it this morning while you were out in the square, and were putting it in your window just when I came upstairs. You were nervous when you saw me poking around the storage-room door, but had no objection to me looking about your room. You wanted me to find that scrap and assume the Trufoots were the thieves."
Mrs. Wetleaf's eyes went wide at this accurate guess, but she only asked, "What do you mean to do with us now?" She and her husband were rallying from their shock at being found out and were beginning to be defiant. "No harm's been done-"
"No harm done!" Mr. Grimmold sputtered. "My people have been scurrilously accused of a crime the two of you committed, and the reputation of my circus endangered. Our personal safety was endangered!" He cast a baleful glance at the Sarties, who had the good grace to look ashamed of themselves.
"And the reputation of my house," added Mr. Butterbur.
"Not to mention our things that you stole," said Mrs. Tillerman.
"You've all got your property back," Mrs. Wetleaf answered, unabashed.
"Except for us," her husband added. "May I have my purse returned, please?"
"I don't see why you shouldn't," Mr. Butterbur answered grudgingly, "but I'll have to ask you folks to leave my house right away, once you pay your bill. And I'll be having a word with the constable when he comes 'round this afternoon, to be sure you don't stay in town to cause further mischief."
While the innkeeper escorted the pair firmly out to settle with them before ejecting them from the inn, the Trufoot family crowded around Frodo to give him their thanks, plus gleeful thumps on the back from Mr. Trufoot and hugs and kisses from Mrs. Trufoot and Larkspur. Pim also hugged her cousin, and took the opportunity to hug Campion as well.
"Marvelous work!" Mr. Grimmold came forward to shake Frodo by the hand. "Mr. Baggins, that was very nicely done! How right I was to put my trust in you. Your reputation is well deserved. I also have you to thank, Master Merry, Miss Pim, and you especially, young Peregrin. You've got quite a talent," he told Pippin appreciatively. "With such quick and nimble fingers, you show a real aptitude for prestidigitation. You'd make a first-class conjurer, my lad, with a bit of practice."
Pippin beamed, gratified by the praise. "Do you really think so? You'll teach me, won't you?"
"Yes, if you like."
"As a matter of fact..." Pippin took the circus-master by the arm, and the two went to the bar to discuss it over a couple of celebratory pints.
Torven Sarty came over to Frodo, stepping in among the little people around him with more care than he'd shown the last time. "Begging your pardon, Mr. Baggins, but Nik and I decided to open our box now," he said. "We thought you might like to see what was so valuable that these Wetleafs must steal it and put everyone to so much trouble."
"Yes, I would, thank you!" Frodo was rather curious to see what it could be.
Nikal took the key from his coat pocket and unlocked the box. He and his brother leaned in eagerly as he opened the lid, then both looked confused and disappointed. "What're these?" the older brother asked, and held up a slender bronze instrument with a sharp point at one end. "This was what they went to such lengths to steal from us?"
Frodo stood on tip-toe to have a peek: the box contained a set of similar tools for delicate work. "Your father was a smith?"
"Aye, he did some fine clock-work and key-smithy," said Torven. "Mother must've hoped we'd carry on in his trade once we came to the town."
"You can have 'em, Tor," said Nikal. "I don't have the steady fingers for that kind of work."
"You'll have to tell the Wetleafs what the 'great treasure' was before they're kicked out," Merry said. "They'll be so glad to know."
"It's not the treasure they were after, but I think they'll be dismayed when they find out what they've lost," said Frodo. "All of Bree ought to be grateful they didn't get their hands on what was in that box. Such tools can be used to pick locks too, you know."
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
