*****Chapter 3*****

Weeks passed, and the hobbits and Strider were still on Weathertop.

'I wish the writer would hurry up and think of something for us to do' said Merry.

The wind whistled, and the only other sound was that of hobbits drumming their fingers. Strider kept watch for most of the
first week, then realised that the complete lack of anything at all happening was not in fact a cunning and dramatic pause
by the author, but a complete lack of imagination on the author's part.