Two days after the battle, Pippin stuck his head in at the door of the room where Ferdi lay. Reginard looked up from where he sat by the bed.

'So, did you settle Lotho's account?' Regi asked.

'Someone had already settled it for him,' Pippin answered, 'but it's the Shire that'll be footing the bill for a long while.'

Regi nodded. 'I would not have recognised Bywater,' he said. 'Good thing we were able to keep them out of Tookland.'

'Aye,' Pippin said. 'And I'll be off again on the day after tomorrow, throwing the rest of the refuse out of the Shire.' He looked to Pimpernel on the other side of the bed. 'You go to your rest, Nelly-my-girl,' he said kindly. 'I've a night and a day's rest coming to me, and I might as well spend a bit of it here.'

'Same old Pip,' Pimpernel said. 'Don't you "Nelly-my-girl" me! You ought to show some respect for your elders.'

'Just be glad you don't have to bow down to me,' Pippin replied. 'I'm a Prince of the Halflings, you know.'

'Is that what you told all those outlanders? And they believed you!'

Pippin smiled, but it faded as he looked to the bed. He kissed his sister as she rose from the chair by the bed, and she threw her arms around him.

'You get some rest, yourself,' she said.

'I will,' Pippin answered. 'Just wanted to chew over old times with Ferdi awhile, is all.' With a final squeeze, Pimpernel sighed, shook her head, and stepped softly from the room.

Pippin watched her go, then settled in the vacated chair. 'My,' he said. 'She's grown up to be a pretty one. Why haven't you married her, Reg?'

'Don't you go marrying me off, Pip,' Reginard answered. 'I just got free of being heir to the Thain, and I intend to enjoy myself awhile.'

'How about you, Ferdi?' Pippin said, leaning forward to address the still figure in the bed. 'What're your plans now that you're retired from laying traps for ruffians?' He patted the unbandaged shoulder. 'You don't have to answer right away; you think on't a bit.'

'I'm sure he will,' Regi said, and then the two fell silent.

In truth, Ferdi was not thinking on any such thing; he was deep in dream.

In his thoughts he was back in a day in early October, when he'd stolen out of Tookland on one of his periodic forays to gather news. His sister Rosemary had married a woodcarver, and they lived not far from Woody End. Ruffians were occasionally to be found in their home, eating her baking or trading for carven curiosities. The woodcarver's family was shunned by their neighbors for their friendly relations with Lotho's Men, but Rosemary and her husband Hally went quietly about their business, gathering much valuable information from the ruffians' idle talk.

Ferdi would occasionally slip in to harvest their crop of news, share a meal, and slip out again. Just this morning he had lain hidden in the woods while ruffians loitered in the yard, swigging tea and munching generous slices of apple cake whilst Hally finished carving a whistle. He handed it to one of the Men with a bow and smile, and the Man tested it out, sending a clear high note through the woods. 'That's prime, Hally,' he said, and blew it again.

The ruffians laughed, the Man pocketed the whistle, Hally and his wife bowed to their guests, and the little children waved as the Men took themselves off, promising to return in a few days with apples and flour so that Rosemary could bake them some tarts.

Ferdi waited until they were well away before creeping through the yard to the back door. He tiptoed up behind his sister, placing his hands over her eyes, and said, 'Did you save me any of that fine-looking cake, now, or are you only feeding ruffians these days?'

Rosemary gasped and whirled. 'Ferdi!' she scolded. 'You shouldn't be here! 'Tis much too dangerous!'

'I watched them leaving,' he said. 'Did they say aught of interest?'

'Not much,' Rosemary answered. She told him about the new Boss, "Sharkey", and how things were supposed to change "for the better", according to the ruffians.

'And just this morning that Bucklander left a message in the hollow tree,' she said. 'He wants to meet with you this evening.'

Ferdi sipped at his tea. 'I ought to do the same,' he said.

'The same what?' Rosemary said. 'I don't follow you.'

'Ought to leave messages in a hollow of a tree. You're right, you know,' he said. 'I've got to stop coming here. It's much too dangerous for you. Should the ruffians find me here they'll burn this place with you in it.' He thought a moment. 'How does Merimac know to check for messages?' he asked.

'I hang out three sheets on the line if there's news,' his sister said, 'or Aunt Essie's tablecloth,' she gestured to the bright red cloth on the table where they sat, 'if there's danger, such as ruffians about.'

'Good thinking,' Ferdi said approvingly. 'Here's what we'll do. If you have news for me, leave it in the hollow of the old beech tree by the stream, and hang out three yellow shirts in a row, brightest you've got. I'll be by on occasion, but if I don't see the signal on the clothes-line I won't stop.'

'Good,' Rosemary said. 'They've pictures of you pegged to nearly every tree round these parts. Best you hide yourself and not come unless you're wanted.'

Hally came in hurriedly. 'Bad trouble,' he said. 'The ruffians came back for some reason, and they've found your pony in the wood.'

Ferdi rose abruptly, but the other put a hand out to stop him. 'No, they're all around the house, searching,' he said. 'We've got to hide you here.'

'You cannot do that,' Ferdi said grimly. 'They'll search the house next.' He sat down again. 'Tie my hands, be quick about it! We'll see if we can trick them.'

'Ferdi?' his sister gasped.

Her husband nodded. 'He's right,' he said, and grabbing a piece of rope from a shelf, he began to bind Ferdi's wrists behind him.

'Make it tight enough to convince them, but not too tight that I cannot work myself free, given time,' Ferdi said.

'Aye,' the woodcarver answered. He stepped back. 'Try them.' Ferdi tested the bonds, nodded. Rough voices were heard outside. Hally went to the door, jerked it open. 'Here!' he called sharply. 'Good thing you've come back! I've got somewhat for you. 'E wandered in lookin' for a bite, and I caught 'im, I did!' he crowed. 'When do I get the reward?'

'Lookee here!' one of the ruffians shouted. 'It's the Fox himself!'

'You've caught a prize all right,' another ruffian said, grinning.

'So,' the woodcarver said. 'Ye'll take him back to the Lockholes, then?'

'Too much bother,' the leader of the Men answered. 'We'll just hang him. The Boss has said he'd be just as happy to see him dead as in the Lockholes.' Rosemary gasped, and the ruffian said reassuringly. 'Don't worry, you'll still get the gold. The reward's good even if he's dead.'

Another ruffian laughed. 'Maybe better, Scar,' he said. 'At least we don't have to cart him all that way, and likely as not have him escape ere we arrive.'

'There's a likely-looking tree in the yard,' one of the Men said helpfully.

'Naw, Bill, 'tis too lonely here,' Scar said. 'We'd do better to take him to the Stock Road, hang him there as a warning to other troublemakers, and more'll see him that way.'

'Right, Scar,' another said. He jerked Ferdi to his feet. 'Come along, you,' he said. Ferdi met his sister's eyes as he was hauled out of the house, shaking his head ever so slightly. Rosemary must not give herself away, for her sake and for the children's. Besides, it was a fair piece to the Stock Road from here, plenty of time to loose his wrists and leave the ruffians in the dust.

'Nice bit of work, Hally,' Scar said to the woodcarver, who had followed them out to the yard where more Men stood, one of them holding Ferdi's pony. 'We'll bring that reward next time we're down this way.'

'Don't you forget,' Hally said jovially, and the Man laughed.

'I won't,' Scar said. 'Take the saddle off,' he added to the Man holding the pony. He took a length of rope from his pack and made a noose, slipping it over Ferdi's head. 'There,' he said with satisfaction. 'Should you clap your feet against that pony's sides, we'll just yank you off before he can carry you away. Wouldn't want you to get lost now, would we?'

They put Ferdi on the pony and began to lead him away, calling cheerful goodbyes to the silent hobbits in the doorway. Hally smiled and waved when the Men looked his way. 'Hurry back... with that gold, I mean!' he called. The Men laughed, and he stepped back inside and pulled the door closed. As soon as the Men had left the little clearing with their prize, the woodcarver's wife hung out three damp sheets, and a freshly-washed red tablecloth, upon the clothes-line in the side yard. At the same time, her husband shouldered his axe and set out whistling to find just the right tree.

A Man stepped out from the shadow of the byre. 'Where are you going, Hally?' he asked.

The hobbit smiled. 'No rest for the weary,' he said cheerily. 'I've got to cut more wood if I'm to make more whistles and whatnots for you lot.'

The Man laughed.

'Did you want something?' Hally asked.

'No,' said the Man. 'We've heard tell that the Fox and the Badger had been seen near here and figured the one would not be too far from the other.'

' "Badger"?' Hally asked.

'O you know, one of them Bucklanders.'

'Bucklanders, here?' the woodcarver asked in amazement. 'What would they be doing here?'

'Making trouble,' the Man said grimly. 'You be sure to tell us if you see any strangers about.'

'That I will,' Hally promised solemnly. 'I will, at that.'

***

The ruffians covered the distance to the Stock Road more quickly than hobbits would have, keeping the pony at a steady trot.

'Won't be long, now,' the leader, Scar, said cheerfully. 'We'll have a bite, take care of business, and be on our way.'

Ferdi had been trying to work at his bonds, but it was difficult on a trotting pony, especially when he also had to concentrate to keep his balance.

All too soon they reached the road to Stock. The leader picked a likely tree and threw Ferdi's rope over the limb, fastening it off. 'There,' he said. 'You sit quiet, now, unless you want to do our job for us.' He grinned in Ferdi's face. 'I surely hope your pony don't spook.'

'You're not the only one,' Ferdi said. He was fighting for calm. He wondered if the ruffians could hear his heart, it was pounding so. He blessed the delay, however. He knew it was meant for his torment, to stretch out his anticipation of death a little longer, but hopefully it would work to his good, instead.

As soon as the Men had sat down to eat, he began to work again at the rope binding his wrists. Once he got loose, he would slip the noose from his neck, kick the pony into a run, and be well away before Scar and his minions could scramble to their feet.

They were finished before he was, however, and the leader rose abruptly. 'It doesn't take a dozen of us to do this,' he said. 'The lot of you go on ahead and Bill and I will finish the job. We'll see you in Stock.'

'Save us some beer,' Bill called. 'Scar and me'll work up a powerful thirst ere the evening's work is done.' The Men seemed to find this a fine jest. There was some good-natured raillery, and then as the others jogged out of sight, the two remaining Men turned back to Ferdi.

'Well, well,' Scar said thoughtfully, checking Ferdi's bindings. 'Looks as if we're just in time. The Fox would've worked his way loose in a few moments more.' He quickly rectified the situation. 'There,' he said. 'All nice and snug again.'

Everything seemed somehow unreal to the hobbit. He saw the bright leaves around him, felt the tickle of the cool breeze on his face, the warm pony hide beneath him. He smelled the earthy scent of the surrounding wood, a tang of smoke on the air, and heard the warning cry of a bird. It did not seem possible that the next breath or the one after that would be his last.

'Are you really the Fox?' Bill asked curiously as he adjusted the noose. 'You look over-young to dance at rope's end.'

'Tooks tend to look younger than they are,' Ferdi answered quietly, the feeling of unreality growing. 'I passed my majority three years ago.'

'And it seems you won't be getting any older,' Scar said, removing the pony's bridle. 'Take yourself a good breath, Master Fox, for it'll be your last.' He stepped to the pony's side and, with a sudden yell, gave the beast a sharp slap on the rump.

The pony bolted out from under Ferdibrand, and suddenly there was no way to breathe as the rope jerked tight and he walked upon the air. The hobbit's hands twitched in an ineffectual effort to reach up and pull the strangling rope loose, but soon he stilled, the world dimming around him. The only sounds on the deserted stretch of road were the creak of the rope and the pony's fading hoofbeats.

'Well, that's--' Scar began, then looked down in confusion at the arrows that had sprouted from his breast. Bill, too, swayed and fell, pierced to the heart.

Hooded hobbits swiftly emerged from the cover of the trees.

'Cut him down, quick!' the leader snapped. Two hobbits locked hands to boost a third high enough to reach up and saw at the rope with his knife. As the last strand parted, others caught the body and eased it down, laying Ferdi gently upon the ground, then one of the hobbits worked his fingers under the rope to pry it loose.

***

'He's stopped breathing,' Ferdi heard one of them say. Of course I've stopped breathing, he thought irritably. It's the sort of thing that happens when people hang you.

'Ferdi,' Pippin said urgently. His presence should have puzzled Ferdi--Pippin shouldn't be there, he couldn't remember just why, but Ferdi was floating away from pain and effort and nothing seemed to matter much anymore.

A mouth pressed against his, not the sweet kiss of a lass but hard and demanding, and then he heard a rush of air sounding like the smithy's bellows. He felt the air rush in, an odd breathless feeling when he himself was not drawing breath. The pressure was removed and the air sighed out of him again.

'Breathe, Ferdi!' Regi's voice said close to his ear. Had he been able, Ferdibrand might have frowned. Regi had not been in the group of hobbits that cut him down from the tree, any more than Pippin had been. What was he doing here?

He felt the pressure on his mouth again, followed by another rush of air. Afterwards, it seemed that Ferdi's body remembered how to breathe, for his chest began to rise and fall of its own accord.

'Ah, cousin,' came Pippin's voice once more. 'Do not give us such a scare again.' A hand squeezed Ferdi's good hand, and he feebly returned the pressure as he slipped back into dream.