Chapter Two

It had been two weeks and still Lobelia had not dared to try on the ring. But things were turning in her favor as she had predicted. Ever since the day she had waylaid Frodo, he had not been right in the head. She had thought he was cracked before, right enough, but this was different. He had changed somehow, and it wasn't just those who disliked him who were talking. She'd heard from Sandyman that his son Ted had heard old Gamgee say that his son Sam had said that Frodo wandered around muttering to himself and seemed to be looking (on the sly) for something, though he'd not say what it was.

Some days he was laid up in bed, with no ailment that the doctor could find. Like as not, he knew that his days of good luck were over and was now sickening for his end; he had no heirs that Lobelia knew of, and really no one could contest the right of the Sackville-Bagginses to Bag End even if he did leave it to one of his more distant relatives. Yessir, if Bag End didn't find its way into her hands before the year was out, it would be a wonder.

Lobelia had said nothing about the ring to Sandyman, nor to anyone else. Sandyman had brought up the subject of Frodo's vanishing trick a day after she had found the ring.

"Did you ever go up to Bag End and see what Frodo was up to?" he had asked.

"No, I never did," she had said. "To tell you truth, Sandyman, it sours me to go up there and see a house that ought to be mine and isn't. I only go there to try his patience anyways, and sneaking about without his knowing it doesn't appeal to me. I'm sure your eyes were playing tricks with you."

"Ah, but then who was it knocked him over the head?" he asked, with a knowing glance at her umbrella.

"Sandyman, you are the worst one for speculating I've ever known. Why don't you ask him yourself who did it?"

He had retreated further into the corner of the Green Dragon, relit his pipe, and muttered something about not being on speaking terms with the Bagginses; and so the subject was dropped, much to Lobelia's relief. The ring was no business of anyone's; she was only fortunate that it had been she, and not Sandyman, who had found it. It was hers, after a fashion; for if it belonged to Frodo then it would go to his heirs (or whoever could get their hands on his house and fortune), and no Sandyman had a right to it.

Three weeks to the day after she had knocked all sense out of Frodo, that meddling wizard came back to the Shire.