Sections in italics are taken directly from The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter 5, “A Conspiracy Unmasked” ( We have entered the home stretch, the finish line is in sight. )

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Fatty was occupying himself by cooking supper. Surely they would be here soon. It had been a long and lonely evening. He had not even been able to concentrate on reading.

He was beginning to realize how hard was the task he had set himself--to stay here alone for as many days or weeks as he could manage, with no one to see, no one to talk to , nothing to do except read (which sounded delightful until he remembered how hard it had been to keep his mind on a book this evening.)

He mixed up some muffins to put in the oven and took out some jars of pea soup to heat. Along with some sausages and slices of ham, he could fry up some potatoes. He was trying to see what else he could find when he heard the front door bang.

“Merry?” he called, not a little startled after the eerie quiet of his evening.

“Yes, Fatty!” Merry called. “Here I am!” He came into the kitchen bearing a large basket which smelled wonderfully of mushrooms. “I found our stray lambs. They had gotten lost down in the Marish, and were found by old Farmer Maggot.”

“How on earth?”

“I imagine they will explain about it when they get here. They are footing it up from the Ferry landing, and will be here soon,” said Merry. “I see that you have supper well in hand, so I will leave this with you, and I’ll go and prepare the baths.”

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The three walking up from the Ferry were tired and quiet. Each was occupied with his own sombre thoughts.

Frodo was trying to think how he was going to tell Merry, Pippin and Fatty that he was leaving. He owed them more of an explanation than “Sorry for all the trouble you went to for me, lads, but it’s all for nothing. I’m leaving in the morning and likely I shan’t return.” Yet to tell them of the true danger he was in would place them at risk as well. How was he going to manage without Gandalf? He glanced at Sam. He’d be glad of his company, but it was so unfair to drag him away like this.

Sam noticed the look Frodo gave him. His master was wishing he could go alone again. Right brave of him it was, but wrong. Gandalf knew he’d need help; the Elves knew he’d need help; Mr. Merry knew he’d need help, as did Mr. Pippin. Sam had to admit of being doubtful at first about the wisdom of having Mr. Pippin along, but not any more. The lad had behaved very well on this first part of the journey, and proved himself a useful travelling companion. What’s more, the youngster had held his tongue and kept his fear to himself. He would do right well.

Pippin trudged along with his head down. He knew how Frodo’s mind worked. His oldest cousin would be just as protective as Merry been to start with. He wondered how many days he and Merry would have to trail Frodo and Sam before they could safely catch them up without the risk of being sent home.

As they walked up the green path from the gate no light was visible; the windows were dark and shuttered. Frodo knocked on the door, and Fatty Bolger opened it. A friendly light streamed out. They slipped in quickly and shut themselves and the light inside. They were in a wide hall with doors on either side; in front of them a passage ran back down the middle of the house.

“Well, what do you think of it?” asked Merry coming up the passage. “We have done our best to make it look like home. After all, Fatty and I only got here with the last cart-load yesterday.”

Frodo looked round.

“It’s delightful!” he said with an effort. “I hardly feel that I have moved at all.”

Much to the weary traveler’s delight--especially Pippin’s--Merry led them to the baths at the end of the passage. He left the three of them to the hot water and steam, while he returned to the kitchen to help Fatty get supper on the table. They could hear Pippin singing all the way down the hall. Merry grinned. He loved to hear Pip sing.

“Well,” said Fatty, “did you find out what delayed them?”

“Not really. But I expect they’ll tell us at supper.” Merry was disturbed. From the way Farmer Maggot had acted, something untoward had happened to force them off the road and across country.

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After a lovely supper, in which Mrs. Maggot’s mushrooms once more held pride of place, the five friends sat round, and Pippin told the story of their journey from Hobbiton to Buckland--Black Riders, Elves and all. Gradually he and Merry brought the conversation round to Farmer Maggot’s guesses as to what was going on.

“But you can at least tell us, Frodo, whether you think his guess good or bad,” said Merry.

“I think ,” answered Frodo slowly, “that it was a good guess, as far as it goes. There is a connection with Bilbo’s old adventures, and the Riders are looking, or perhaps one ought to say searching, for him or for me. I also fear, if you want to know, that it is no joke at all; and that I am not safe here or anywhere else.” He looked round at the windows and walls, as if he was afraid they would suddenly give way. The others looked at him in silence, and exchanged meaning glances among themselves.

“It’s coming out in a minute,” whispered Pippin to Merry.

“Well!” said Frodo at last, sitting up and straightening his back, as if he had made a decision. “I can’t keep it dark any longer. I have got something to tell you all. But I don’t know quite how to begin.”

“I think I could help you,” said Merry quietly, “by telling you some of it myself.”

“What do you mean?” said Frodo, looking at him anxiously.

“Just this, my dear old Frodo: you are miserable, because you don’t know how to say good-bye. You meant to leave the Shire of course. But danger has come on you sooner than you expected, and now you are making up your mind to go at once. And you don’t want to. We are very sorry for you.”

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It was done. It had worked. Amazingly, Frodo had agreed to take them with him, with only a minimum of argument. Merry had finally got Frodo to go to bed. Now he had gone out to check the ponies once more before getting a few hours sleep himself. Coming back to the cottage, he saw Pippin standing on the doorstep, breathing in the cool fall air.

He put a companionable arm around his younger cousin’s shoulders. “Are you all right, Pip?” he asked.

Pippin looked at him seriously. “I don’t know. I’m sad, for Frodo. He doesn’t want to do this. And I have to admit, I’m frightened. But it's funny, Merry; in spite of it all, I’m happy.” Now he grinned, that infectious Tookish grin. “We’re going on an adventure. Together.”

Merry gave the shoulders a slight squeeze. “Yes. Yes, we are. Together.”

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