The next morning:
"A figure on the hilltop, you said?" inquired Bilbo Baggins, pausing in his eating, a slice of toast still poised in one hand. "Are you certain that it wasn't a Hobbit, my lad?" he continued, scrutinising his ward through very knowing blue eyes.
"Yes, Uncle – it was far too tall for a Hobbit," Frodo answered from across the breakfast table, lively as ever – despite the puzzling happenings of the previous evening he had slept well, although his dreams had been haunted by moving shadows and cold moonlight. "And I've seldom known Hobbits to wear hoods and cloaks in Hobbiton, for one thing. Sam and I let everyone known about the footprint, but I've told no one else about the thing on the rise – it would probably only start a panic." He paused, remembering the silence that had descended over the Green Dragon last night when he and Sam had reported the footprint, until the Gaffer had spoken.
"Happen it was a couple of tweens having a laugh," he remarked slowly. "Sorry for doubting you, Will!"
The pub had speedily resumed its usual atmosphere at that, with Will being bought numerous drinks to atone for being teased. Only Frodo had remained apart from the revelry, sunk deep in thought at what he had witnessed.
"You did right there, lad," Bilbo mused, breaking into Frodo's thoughts. Bilbo put down his toast and propped his elbows on the table, manners forgotten for the moment. "No sense in causing a fuss till we know what we're dealing with …" he trailed off and sat very still, eyes fixed on the middle distance.
Frodo recognised that Bilbo was deep in contemplation, and waited patiently, his gaze drifting off towards the open window. In contrast to the cloudy night that had gone before, it was an unusually warm day outside, temperate and sunny as could be wished. Already the bumble bees were buzzing their way around the flower beds. But remembering the silhouette upon the hill last night, Frodo couldn't help but feel a cold tingle of anticipation work its way down his spine.
"Hmm," Bilbo announced, bringing Frodo back from his reverie. "I reckon you're right in one thing lad – this was no elf. Don't ask me how I know, I just do!" he added brusquely as Frodo's eyes widened in questioning. "But all the same, we'd do well to keep our eyes and ears open," he added in a softer tone. "Hopefully it's nothing but a couple of tweens playing some tricks –" though Bilbo did not sound too confident in this assessment "- but I'm glad young Samwise had the gumption to accompany you last night."
Frodo smiled with only the slightest touch of amusement at that – affection clearly brought the expression to his face. "Sam's capable of more than everyone thinks he is, Uncle," he remarked fondly. "He looked ready to take on a dragon last night if he needed to."
Bilbo chuckled at that idea, remembering how, more years ago that he cared to think about … "Well, you stick by him, lad. Besides, after that little escapade with the Sackville-Bagginses last month, I think Sam will be sticking by you until the moon falls out of the sky!"
Both Hobbits began laughing at that – especially Bilbo. What a scene that had been! It had started when Sam had been wandering down the hill from Bag End one afternoon carrying a basket of various vegetables and fruit that hadn't made it through the winter despite careful storage. The intention was giving the lot to the Bracegirdle's pigs, until Lotho Sackville-Baggins and a couple of cronies had pounced on him and hurled him bodily into the nearest duck pond.
Poor Sam had gone right under the water, and had been thrashing about in a panic when Frodo suddenly burst onto the scene, attracted by Sam's cries, and jumped headlong into the pond to pull out the sputtering Sam. As soon as they were both on dry land, Frodo had cut off Lotho's jeering by letting fly with whatever rotten vegetables came to hand from Sam's dropped basket. Lotho and his bullying friends had wound up covered in nasty smelling vegetable slime, and to add injury to insult Bilbo himself had turned up at that point and applied his stout walking stick to their backsides.
Bilbo had given Frodo a mild ticking off for the vegetable hurling as well, but was secretly proud of his ward for standing up for Sam. Sam himself, who obviously already adored the younger Baggins, had been convinced that Mr. Frodo had saved his life and had held forth on his near-drowning and Frodo's heroic rescue to anyone who would listen, rather to Frodo's embarrassment. Luckily Will's ghost appears to have distracted him from it, Frodo thought. I wonder if Sam has any more ideas about what we saw last night.
He left Bilbo to his chuckles and wandered outside into the bright daylight, blinking a little to clear his vision. Sam was bent over the flowerbed, watering and talking encouragingly to the flowers that were just beginning to send up green shoots. "Here now, this water will you do you some good – hey, bumble bee, fly away! They're not ready for you yet!" Glancing up to watch the bee as it flew off, he caught sight of Frodo standing on the garden path. "Morning, Mr. Frodo!" he called cheerfully. "How's yourself and Mr. Bilbo today?"
"Quite all right, thank you Sam," Frodo answered. "We've been talking about the ghost and what it might be again."
Sam was instantly all attention. "Has Mr. Bilbo worked it out then, Mr. Frodo?" he asked eagerly. But Frodo shook his head.
"He said it might just be a couple of tweens playing a prank, but neither of us thinks that's likely," Frodo sighed, as Sam listened avidly. "I thought that maybe you had a few theories of your own, Sam!" Frodo continued more cheerily, at which Sam promptly dropped the watering can and stood straight up, shaking his head.
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo, but I'm no scholar," he protested. "I'm a gardener, me. I don't have much book-learning – I'm not even that good at reading them! And I certainly don't have the wits for a mystery like this – I mean, if Mr. Bilbo can't solve it –"
"Sam!" Frodo interrupted, before Sam's ramblings could lead them away from the subject entirely. "Sam, you don't have to be book-learned to be clever – or wise, for that matter," he continued in a softer tone. "If you can think of anything that might help solve what happened last night, then let's have it!"
Sam put his head on one side and started thinking hard – proper thinking was seldom anything else for Sam, not because he was dim-witted as so many thought, Frodo reflected, but because he liked to see a job well done, and that included thinking. At long last, Sam straightened up and looked back over at Frodo. "I reckon Mr. Bilbo's right, Mr. Frodo – this is the sort of prank some tweens would pull, but something is telling me no – we would've heard them laughing about it after if it had been! And I reckon you're right, Mr. Frodo – an elf wouldn't leave footprints, nor would a badger or a fox. And Hobbits don't wear boots or shoes, so that means it can only be one of the Big Folk."
"Process of elimination! Sam, you are an intellectual after all!" Frodo exclaimed delightedly, at which Sam swiftly lost track of the conversation. But before he could ask for an explanation, Frodo was hurrying on: "I think you might have hit on the solution, Sam! But what would one of the BigFolk want in the Shire? The only visitor from them I've ever heard of – in recent memory at least – is Gandalf, and he always comes to see Bilbo when he's here!"
"Maybe it's Mr. Gandalf paying a secret visit then?" Sam suggested, but Frodo shook his head.
"Gandalf is rather like Bilbo in some ways Sam – he loves to cause an uproar!" Frodo remarked mischievously. "Trust me, if it was Gandalf, he'd be in Bag End right now, both of them plotting away!"
"I heard that!" A grumpy yell sounded from just inside Bag End, causing Sam to jump and Frodo to start chuckling. Sam glanced over at the open front door to see if Bilbo was still watching, but Frodo's good humour was infectious, and soon both of them were laughing.
"I don't see what there is to look so suited about!" came another grumpy voice – that of a female Hobbit this time. Both Frodo and Sam stopped laughing abruptly, and Frodo heaved a heavy sigh – Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was standing at the garden gate. "Where's Bilbo, then?" she demanded.
"He's gone for a walk," Frodo replied swiftly, glancing at Bag End, hoping that Bilbo had spotted the unwelcome visitor and vanished as he usually seemed to do when unpleasant callers arrived. Lobelia raised her eyebrows at this, but didn't remark upon it. Opening the gate and striding up the garden path, she swept past both Frodo and Sam and into the Hobbit hole.
"I've come to borrow some seed cake," she remarked over her shoulder. "We've visitors this evening, and all our cake has gone! Strangest thing – we had several in the pantry not two days ago and they're all gone! I blame those Chubbs – always prowling round, out for what they can find …"
Lobelia disappeared into Bag End's interior, leaving both Hobbits gaping after her – Sam in sheer outrage at her nerve, Frodo in contemplation. Then Frodo suddenly snapped his fingers and stepped hastily over to Sam. "Sam!" he whispered urgently. "Lobelia's not the only one to have food go missing – remember in the pub last night? Filibert Bolger and Everard Proudfoot said that some food of theirs had gone missing – perhaps it's something to do with Will's ghost?"
Sam blinked at this sudden idea. "I don't know, Mr. Frodo – if it is a Big Person, then what would they want with Hobbit food? And surely someone would have spotted them if they've been prowling about, filching food from larders! Happen it's a co-thingy – a coincidence."
Frodo sighed. "The more adventures I have the less I believe in coincidence, Sam, but you've got a point there," he mused, pausing as the sound of Lobelia clattering about in Bag End filtered through the doorway. "Although … there's more," Frodo continued, keeping an eye out for Lobelia's return as he quickly informed Sam of the figure on the hilltop he had seen. Poor Sam's mouth had dropped wide open by the time Frodo had finished – all of this was sounding far too like an adventure for his liking!
"Why didn't you say something last night, Mr. Frodo?" he enquired slowly, once Frodo had completed his tale.
"I didn't want to cause a panic in the Green Dragon – not until we know what we're dealing with, as Bilbo said," Frodo replied, a note of apology in his voice. "But there's only one way we're going to find out more – go and look!"
"Go and look?" Sam exclaimed, only to be halted very suddenly by a very annoyed Lobelia storming back up the path, with what looked like the entire contents of a jar of marmalade spattered all over her skirts – and not a slice of seed cake in sight.
"Wretched item just seemed to fling itself at me!" she informed Frodo crossly, before stamping her way out of the gate the road, still muttering wrathfully. Not a minute later Bilbo put his head of the door.
"She's gone then?" he asked. "Thank heavens," he sighed at Frodo's nod. "That old baggage was after my supper," he continued. "It's lucky that little – accident – with the marmalade took place!"
"Uncle," Frodo interrupted, eyes shining brightly, "I've told Sam about the figure on the hilltop, and we think it might be a good idea if we go and have a look up there – perhaps find a few clues about what's going on."
Bilbo paused in his grumbling and looked straight at Frodo. "What a marvellous idea, lad!" he exclaimed. "Nothing like a spot of adventure to take your mind off things! Let me fetch some walking sticks and we'll be off in two ticks!"
"Will you both be all right up there, Mr. Bilbo?" Sam asked, a bit disconcerted by Bilbo's enthusiasm.
"Why, Samwise, you didn't think we'd leave you behind, did you?" replied Bilbo merrily. "I'll just fetch you a stick as well and we'll all be off together – three Hobbits off to solve a mystery!"
"Oh lor!" Sam cried, overwhelmed, as Bilbo went on his errand. "Me away solving a mystery! I'm not too sure about this!"