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Tim, after inviting the hobbit ladies over to Fordogrim’s table and fetching them chairs, and quite excused himself from the group and slipped outside the inn to make sure that all was well in the stables. He found Meri the stablemaster fairly red in the face from hobbling around and Tim felt a pang of guilt when he saw him.
“I’m here, Mr. Meriadoc,” he said. “You’d better take a seat and rest that foot of yours. I’m sorry for being gone so long. Mr. Fordogrim had me in for lunch, you see.”
“Well, at least you’re back now,” the hobbit replied rather shortly. He took Tim’s advise and seated himself on a barrel just outside the barn door. “There’s another horse just recently come in,” he went on, pulling a pipe out of his vest pocket and then searching for a match. “Make certain that he’s properly cared for. I couldn’t do more than put him in the stall. He was too big for me to groom with just one hand.”
“I’ll deal with it, don’t worry,” Tim replied. He turned at once and had just stepped into the barn door when he saw his sister emerge from the kitchen door with something under her arm. He paused half a second, looking at her, and then proceeded into the dimmer shadows of the barn to do his job with the horses.
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