After they'd had their mugs of tea and Sam delivered his family news, he and Frodo left the ropeyard and went to the Mousehole inn at Gamwich, where they intended to stay during this investigation. This was the same inn where they'd stayed last spring while tracing the whereabouts of Sam's Aunt Lula.
"You could've stayed with your brother and uncle for a night or two," Frodo said as they entered the inn's stableyard. "I'd miss you, but I wouldn't mind."
Sam shook his head. "I meant what I told Uncle Andy--my place is with you, now as always. He didn't mean any disrespect to you, Frodo. More the other way 'round. He's like my Dad. They was brought up to know their place. Uncle Andy'd think it getting above himself to ask a gentlehobbit to stop the night in his house. He doesn't have much to do with fine folk. He's a bit shy of 'em, you might say. There's nobody for miles hereabouts like the Brandybucks or Tooks."
"Nor even the Bagginses?" Frodo said with a smile.
"Not even the Bagginses," Sam agreed. "The best they have are some well-off farmers."
"I'm sure that's how all the best families started out when hobbits first settled the Shire. Some just became more well-off than others," Frodo replied democratically and jumped from his pony's saddle. "I'll engage a room for us," he decided while Sam likewise dismounted and handed his pony's reigns to the young stable-boy who came forward to meet them. "Why don't you go into the taproom and make friends with whoever might be there? Buy them a round or two of ales."
Sam understood his assignment. "And ask `em questions about this Malbo?"
"Yes, please. If there are many hobbits hereabouts like your uncle, shy of gentlefolk, I think this will be more your game than mine. They'll be more likely to talk to you about the hanged hobbit. According to your brother, this was his favorite haunt. They must've known him well."
"They talked to you the last time we was here."
"True, but then I was asking questions about a lady who used to live here ages ago. This time, we'll be asking about a murder. Besides, you're closer to them. Family to some." The Gamgees were originally from this part of the Shire; in addition to his connection to Ham and Uncle Andy, who were well known and liked by their neighbors, Sam had other more distant relatives in and around Gamwich, and he was regarded as something of a local lad even though he'd only been here once before.
They went into the inn. Frodo sought out the innkeeper, Mr. Bloomer, who remembered him from last year's visit. "We've been expecting you, Mr. Baggins. There's been talk that you'd be coming our way again after this terrible business up at old Andy's ropeyard," the innkeeper informed him. "Terrible, I say it is for the Gamgees' sake, but that Malbo's no loss. Oh, yes, we knew him here. You'll be wanting your dinner, after coming such a long way- Maisie!" He turned to shout down the kitchen corridor, and a pretty maid in an apron with her hair under a kerchief emerged. "Maisie love, lay out the table in the private dining-room for Mr. Baggins and his friend."
The girl curtseyed and disappeared back into the kitchen.
After Frodo had seen the baggage sent to their room, he went to join Sam in the taproom and found his friend at the bar. Sam had gathered a small crowd about him. It had been several days since the body had been found at the Gamgees' rope-walking field; the first furor of conversation on the topic had died down, but Sam was able to revive it again with the offer of a round of ales. Everyone was eager to tell him the local news.
"-I diced with 'm once or twice a week," one hobbit-lad was saying as Frodo came in. "We played darts sometimes too. He was good at games."
"Too good, if you ask me!" another observed.
The first hobbit laughed. "You only say that because he won off you so often! If you begrudge every penny you lose, Pandro, you'd best not play at all!"
"I'm not the first to say so, Tully," Pandro replied, and several other hobbits agreed. The imputation of cheating had been made against Malbo Glossum before.
"It was how he made his living," a third hobbit spoke up.
"Didn't he have a regular job?" Sam asked.
"Not to say 'regular,'" said Pandro. "He went out as a farm laborer, and did a bit of heavy work in gardens when called to it. He took whatever job came to hand. He was at our orchard for awhile at the last harvest."
Frodo hadn't intended to interrupt Sam's questioning of the local hobbits, but at this point, the group noticed him at the doorway. A stranger was an unusual sight at the Mousehole, and the conversation stopped.
"We'll be having dinner shortly in the private dining-room, Sam," Frodo said. "Mr. Bloomer's arranging it."
"I'll just finish this ale then," Sam answered, and lifted his half-empty mug.
"Don't you worry, Mr. Baggins," said a hobbit who hadn't spoken before. "We won't keep your friend long." Although he wasn't what Frodo would call a gentlehobbit, he looked like as if he were a social step or two above the working hobbits in the room. Frodo thought he must be one of those well-to-do farmers Sam had spoken of and, in spite of his surprise at being recognized, he bowed.
"Have we met before?" he asked.
"We weren't introduced, Mr. Baggins, but I saw you once, in this same room. You won't remember me." The other hobbit gave him a bow in return. "Silvanus Woodbine, at your service."
Sam took the opportunity to introduce some of his other new friends. "This is Tully Digby, and Pandro Applegrove." He lay a hand on the arm of one of the young hobbits sitting nearest him. "And these lads are Haltred and Haftrey Gamgee, cousins of mine."
Frodo told them all he was pleased to make their acquaintance, and refused the offer of an ale. The large hobbit at the bar glared at him with sullen suspicion.
"We knew you and Sam were coming, Mr. Baggins," Haftrey told him. "Ham's always bragging on how his brother works with the famous detective, and how you 'n' him find all those lost jewels and missing ladies and catch murderers for the fine folk. After Malbo was found hanging in his ropeyard, Ham said as since we had our own murder here, even if it wasn't so fine, you'd come and do the same."
"Who told you it was murder?" asked Frodo. This was the one point that he'd hoped hadn't been made public yet. People would speak more freely about a supposed suicide.
"Ham said so, but we'd heard tell of it afore," said Haftrey. "Sherriff Punbry was talking about it the day it happened. He said as how he saw right away that Malbo couldn't've tied himself up that way with nobody else to give a hand."
"Dondo Punbry was full of himself," added Haltred, "for being so clever as to spot it."
"Ham and Uncle Andy saw it too, before they even called on him," Sam defended his relatives.
"And you wouldn't be here if Malbo hanged himself, would you, Mr. Baggins?" Silvanus concluded.
"No," Frodo conceded.
"I don't know as I'd tell you who did it, if I knew," said Pandro. "Whoever it was, I'd say they did everyone a favor. Malbo wanted hanging."
"Did he now?" asked Sam. "What for?"
But before Pandro could answer, Silvanus Woodbine said, "Hush your prattle, Pan my lad! Don't you know better than to watch your tongue? You'll have Mr. Baggins thinking you're the one who did the hanging."
He spoke as if he were joking, and some of the other hobbits in the room laughed, but there was a sharp undertone of warning in his voice and his eyes darted from Sam to Frodo.
Tully was among those who were laughing. "Yes, that's so!" he said. "Did you have a hand in it, Pandro? Couldn't bear losing another game to Malbo? Best to confess it now."
"If I did do it," said Pandro, "then I wouldn't tell anybody!"
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