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's door。 But there does not seem any choice。 What does he want for it？'
Bill Ferny's price was twelve silver pennies； and that was indeed at least three times the pony's value in those pans。 It proved to be a bony； underfed； and dispirited animal； but it did not look like dying just yet。 Mr。 Butterbur paid for it himself； and offered Merry another eighteen pence as some pensation for the lost animals。 He was an honest man； and welloff as things were reckoned in Bree； but thirty silver pennies was a sore blow to him； and being cheated by Bill Ferny made it harder to bear。
As a matter of fact he came out on the right side in the end。 It turned out later that only one horse had been actually stolen。 The others had been driven off； or had bolted in terror； and were found wandering in different corners of the Breeland。 Merry's ponies had escaped altogether； and eventually （having a good deal of sense） they made their way to the Downs in search of Fatty Lumpkin。 So they came under the care of Tom Bombadil for a while； and were welloff。 But when news of the events at Bree came to Tom's ears； he sent them to Mr。 Butterbur； who thus got five good beasts at a very fair price。 They had to work harder in Bree； but Bob treated them well； so on the whole they were lucky： they missed a dark and dangerous journey。 But they never came to Rivendell。
However； in the meanwhile for all Mr。 Butterbur knew his money was gone for good； or for bad。 And he had other troubles。 For there was a great motion as soon as the remaining guests were astir and heard news of the raid on the inn。 The southern travellers had lost several horses and blamed the innkeeper loudly； until it became known that one of their own number had also disappeared in the night； none other than Bill Ferny's squinteyed panion。 Suspicion fell on him at once。
'If you pick up with a horsethief； and bring him to my house；' said Butterbur angrily； 'you ought to pay for all the damage yourselves and not e shouting at me。 Go and ask Ferny where your handsome friend is！' But it appeared that he was nobody's friend； and nobody could recollect when he had joined their party。
After their breakfast the hobbits had to repack； and get together further supplies for the longer journey they were now expecting。 It was close on ten o'clock before they at last got off。 By that time the whole of Bree was buzzing with excitement。 Frodo's vanishing trick； the appearance of the black horsemen； the robbing of the stables； and not least the news that Strider the Ranger had joined the mysterious hobbits； made such a tale as would last for many uneventful years。 Most of the inhabitants of Bree and Staddle； and many even from be and Archet； were crowded in the road to see the travellers start。 The other guests in the inn were at the doors or hanging out of the windows。
Strider had changed his mind； and he decided to leave Bree by the main road。 Any attempt to set off across country at once would only make matters worse： half the inhabitants would follow them； to see what they were up to； and to prevent them from trespassing。
They said farewell to Nob and Bob； and took leave of Mr。 Butterbur with many thanks。 'I hope we shall meet again some day； when things are merry once more；' said Frodo。 'I should like nothing better than to stay in your house in peace for a while。'
They tramped off； anxious and downhearted； under the eyes of the crowd。 Not all the faces were friendly； nor all the words that were shouted。 But Strider seemed to be held in awe by most of the Breelanders； and those that he stared at shut their mouths and drew away。 He walked in front with Frodo； next came Merry and Pippin； and last came Sam leading the pony； which was laden with as much of their baggage as they had the heart to give it； but already it looked less dejected； as if it approved of the change in its fortunes。 Sam was chewing an apple thoughtfully。 He had a pocket full of them： a parting present from Nob and Bob。 'Apples for walking； and a pipe for sitting；' he said。 'But I reckon I'll miss them both before long。'
The hobbits took no notice of the inquisitive heads that peeped out of doors； or popped over walls and fences； as they passed。 But as they drew near to the further gate； Frodo saw a dark illkept house behind a thick hedge： the last house in the village。 In one of the windows he caught a glimpse of a sallow face with sly； slanting eyes； but it vanished at once。
'So that's where that southerner is hiding！' he thought。 'He looks more than half like a goblin。'
Over the hedge another man was staring boldly。 He had heavy black brows； and dark scornful eyes； his large mouth curled in a sneer。 He was smoking a short black pipe。 As they approached he took it out of his mouth and spat。
'Morning； Longshanks！' he said。 'Off early？ Found some friends at last？' Strider nodded； but did not answer。 'Morning； my little friends！' he said to the others。 'I suppose you know who you've taken up with？ That's Stickat naught Strider； that is！ Though I've heard other names not so pretty。 Watch out tonight！ And you； Sammie； don't go illtreating my poor old pony！ Pah！' He spat again。
Sam turned quickly。 'And you。 Ferny；' he said； 'put your ugly face out of sight； or it will get hurt。' With a sudden flick； quick as lightning； an apple left his hand and hit Bill square on the nose。 He ducked too late； and curses came from behind the hedge。 'Waste of a good apple；' said Sam regretfully； and strode on。
At last they left the village behind。 The escort of children and stragglers that had followed them got tired and turned back at the Southgate。 Passing through； they kept on along the Road for some miles。 It bent to the left； curving back into its eastward line as it rounded the feet of Breehill； and then it began to run swiftly downwards into wooded country。 To their left they could see some of the houses and hobbitholes of Staddle on the gentler southeastern slopes of the hill； down in a deep hollow away north of the Road there were wisps of rising smoke that showed where be lay；
Archet was hidden in the trees beyond。
After the Road had run down some way； and had left Breehill standing tall and brown behind； they came on a narrow track that led off towards the North。 'This is where we leave the open and take to cover；' said Strider。
'Not a 〃short cut〃； I hope；' said Pippin。 'Our last short cut through woods nearly ended in disaster。'
'Ah； but you had not got me with you then；' laughed Strider。 'My cuts； short or long； don't go wrong。' He took a look up and down the Road。 No one was in sight； and he led the way quickly down towards the wooded valley。
His plan； as far as they could understand it without knowing the country； was to go towards Archet at first； but to bear right and pass it on the east； and then to steer as straight as he could over the wild lands to Weathertop Hill。 In that way they would； if all went well； cut off a great loop of the Road； which further on bent southwards to avoid the Midgewater Marshes。 But； of course； they would have to pass through the marshes themselves； and Strider's description of them was not encouraging。
However； in the meanwhile； walking was not unpleasant。 Indeed； if it had not been for the disturbing events of the night before； they would have enjoyed this pan of the journey better than any up to that time。 The sun was shining； clear but not too hot。 The woods in the valley were still leafy and full of colour； and seemed peaceful and wholesome。 Strider guided them confidently among the many crossing paths； although left to themselves they would soon have been at a loss。 He was taking a wandering course with many turns and doublings； to put off any pursuit。
'Bill Ferny will have watched where we left the Road； for certain；' he said； 'though I don't think he will follow us himself。 He knows the land round here well enough； but he knows he is not a match for me in a wood。 It is what he may tell others that I am afraid of。 I don't suppose they are far away。 If they think we have made for Archet； so much the better。'
Whether because of Strider's skill or for some other reason； they saw no sign and heard no sound of any other living thing all that day： neither two footed； except birds； nor fourfooted； except one fox and a few squirrels。 The next day they began to steer a steady course eastwards； and still all was quiet and peaceful。 On the third day out from Bree they came out of the Chetwood。 The land had been falling steadily； ever since they turned aside from the Road； and they now entered a wide flat expanse of country； much more difficult to manage。 They were far beyond the borders of the Breeland； out in the pathless wilderness； and drawing near to the Midgewater Marshes。
The ground now became damp； and in places boggy and here and there they came upon pools； and wide stretches of reeds and rushes filled with the warbling of little hidden birds。 They had to pick their way carefully to keep both dryfooted and on their proper course。 At first they made fanprogress； but as they went on； their passage became slower and more dangerous。 The marshes were bewildering and treacherous； and there was no permanent trail even for Rangers to find through their shifting quagmires。 The flies began to torment them； and the air was full of clouds of tiny midges that crept up their sleeves and breeches and into their hair。
'I am being eaten alive！' cried Pippin。 'Midgewater！ There are more midges than water！'
'What do they live on when they can't get hobbit？' asked Sam； scratching his neck。
They spent a miserable day in this lonely and unpleasant country。 Their campingplace was damp； cold； and unfortable； and the biting insects would not let them sleep。 There were also abominable creatures haunting the reeds and tussocks that from the sound of them were evil relatives of the cricket。 There were thousands of them； and they squeaked all round； neekbreek； breek neek； unceasingly all the night； until the hobbits were nearly frantic。
The next day； the fourth； was little better； and the night almost as fortless。 Though the Neekerbreekers （as Sam called them） had been left behind； the midges still pursued them。
As Frodo lay； tired but unable to close his eyes； it seemed to him that far away there came a light in the eastern sky： it flashed and faded many times。 It was not the dawn； for that was still some hours off。
'What is the light？' he said to Strider； who had risen； and was standing； gazing ahead into the night。
'I do not know；' Strider answered。 'It is too distant to make out。 It is like lightning that leaps up from the hilltops。'
Frodo lay down again； but for a long while he could still see the white flashes； and against them the tall dark figure of Strider； standing silent and watchful。 At last he passed into uneasy sleep。
They had not gone far on the fifth day when they left the last straggling pools and reedbeds of the marshes behind them。 The land before them began steadily to rise again。 Away in the distance eastward they could now see a line of hills。 The highest of them was at the right of the line and a little separated from the others。 It had a conical top； slightly flattened at the summit。
'That is Weathertop；' said Strider。 'The Old Road； which we have left far away on our right； runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot。 We might reach it by noon tomorrow； if we go straight towards it。 I suppose we had better do so。'
'What do you mean？' asked Frodo。
'I mean： when we do get there； it is not certain what we shall find。 It is close to the Road。'
'But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there？'
'Yes； but the hope is faint。 If he es this way at all； he may not pass through Bree； and so he may not know what we are doing。 And anyway； unless by luck we arrive almost together； we shall miss one another； it will not be safe for him or for us to wait there long。 If the Riders fail to find us in the wilderness； they are likely to make for Weathertop themselves。 It mands a wide view all round。 Indeed； there are many birds and beasts in this country that could see us； as we stand here； from that hilltop。 Not all the birds are to be trusted； and there are other spies more evil than they are。'
The hobbits looked anxiously at the dis