When he left the ropeyard, Sam took a roundabout path back in the direction of Gamwich, losing his way once or twice, before he arrived at the Gamgee farm. He'd missed luncheon, but his Gamgee cousins were delighted to bring out cold platters and the best home-brewed beer for him. There were quite a number of people living at the farm, and he was introduced to them all--to Hargo Gamgee and his wife, to Uncle Tigo and the wives of two of his three sons, and to a crowd of small children who ran in and out, caught between their excitement at meeting a distant relation and shyness.
The younger hobbits were in the middle of the spring planting and didn't remain in the farmhouse for long, but the older folk sat and talked with Sam at their leisure. Before the meal was finished, they'd worked out the exact degree of relationship between Sam and themselves. The common ancestor was Old Wiseman, it seemed, a mutual great-grandfather to Uncle Andy and the Gaffer, and to Hargo and Tigo.
"And how is old Ham?" Hargo asked him. "We used to go about with him 'n' Andy when we was all lads together, but an't hardly had a word from him since he went off to Hobbiton."
Sam provided news of his father, and asked, "D'you see much of my Uncle Andy these days?"
The two brothers shook their heads. "He's got set in his ways and keeps to himself as he gets older," said Tigo. "Hardly ever comes out of his ropeyard anymore."
"He ought've married," said Hargo, filling his pipe for a smoke. "Living alone `til young Ham came to work with him, it made him a bit peculiar. `Tisn't natural, a hobbit alone. I hope young Ham don't end up the same way."
"We thought as once that young Ham might marry our Hedda," said Mrs. Gamgee--Aunt Una, she had insisted Sam call her. "But he never spoke up and she wouldn't wait."
"Just as well," said Tigo.
Sam was curious at this cryptic remark. "What d'you mean?"
"Well," the elderly hobbit explained, regarding his pipe with a shy embarrassment rather than meet Sam's eyes, "all that business that's brought you and your detective gent here."
"Now you don't think Ham's got something to do with it?"
The three older hobbits exchanged a glance. "Not as to say 'something,'" Hargo admitted, "but how did that Malbo come to be hung up in his ropeyard with a rope that Ham himself twisted together only the day afore? And him 'n' Andy never heard a sound? `Tis odd, Sam, and there's no two ways about it, kin or not. We aren't the only ones as wonders about it."
Sam left the Gamgee farm and headed back for the inn in more turmoil of mind than he'd been in when he'd left it that morning. His quarrel with Frodo was almost forgotten in light of this suspicion cast unexpectedly on his brother. Was this what the folk around Gamwich believed--that Ham had a part in Malbo's hanging? Was this the secret that everybody was keeping from him and Frodo?
But what reason could there be to suspect Ham? The elder Gamgees, when pressed, could give none, except to repeat how it was odd that Ham had heard nothing that night. When Sam stopped on his way through the farm fields to ask Halfrey, his cousin said it was all gossip and nonsense and that there was nothing against Ham, but his answers had come in a guarded way that made Sam feel certain that he was lying. He respected that his cousins wanted to protect Ham, for he felt just the same, but he wanted to know what they knew and refused to tell.
Was there anything in it?
Sam was still pondering this troubling idea as he entered the inn. As he stood in the front hall, wondering if Frodo was back yet, he heard a loud burst of laughter coming from the taproom--a very familiar laugh.
He went to the taproom door and peeked in. A lively game of dice was in progress on the floor opposite the bar; a newcomer to Gamwich had joined the local lads and appeared to be losing cheerfully. Another newcomer was at the bar, gulping down an ale and watching the game with amused interest.
Sam regarded them in dismay. Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took had arrived.
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