[alaklondewen]

“Fredigar! Fredigar!” The Headstrong hobbit was busy rolling up his small bundle of blankets when he heard his name being wildly shouted through the air. “Fredigar! Wait, Fredigar!” Fredigar raised his head and look about curiously until his gaze found young Adelard who was flailing his arms as he ran toward the hobbit.

“Adelard Proudfoot, what are you doin’ runnin’ about and shoutin’ my name? Boy, what’s the problem?”

Adelard stopped running and paused to catch his breath, then began spilling all the details of what he heard Old Fordogrim Chubb say and how he saw Crispin Whitfoot causing mischief during the night. Fredigar could feel the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks. “So, we have a thief, do we? Well, I’ll just have to do something about that.” With that the self-appointed Sheriff marched off to find the perpetrator.

Adelard stood a brief moment, smiling at his part in the action, and then quickly jogged to catch up with Fredigar. This was just the kind of commotion the young Fallohide had longed for…a real drama. He couldn’t wait to see the Whitfoot lad’s face when he realized he was busted. Adelard grinned again, and if someone had seen him at that moment, they would have said the lad had a sparkle in his eye.

Crispin was sitting quietly on the ground eating his small breakfast, when Fredigar and Adelard found him. “Crispin Whitfoot,” the law enforcer roared in as booming a voice as he could muster. “Where were you during the night?”

Crispin tipped his head to one side and answered honestly, “Sleeping?”

“Don’t you get smart with me, son. Adelard, here saw you out last night after everyone was sleeping. Now, where did you go, and what did you do?” Glaring as he spoke, Fredigar towered over the young hobbit and put his hands on both hips.

The lad remained silent for a few moments. He seemed to be trying to remember, or understand, what Fredigar was wanting. The Headstrong figured Crispin was just trying to think of a lie to cover his tracks.

“I got up to get a drink of water,” Crispin finally said. “I couldn’t sl…”

“You little liar,” Fredigar hissed through his teeth. “I know exactly where you were. You were thieving these good hobbits. You’re a dirty thief. Get up, you’re coming with me.”

Crispin looked confused and didn’t move, so Fredigar grabbed hold of the boy’s arm and yanked him to his feet causing his breakfast plate to tumble to the ground. “I told you to get up.” Fredigar growled quietly in the lad’s ear. “Next time do what I say, when I say it.”

“What is the meaning of this?” The lad’s father stepped up to Fredigar.

“Kalimac, you’re son, here, is a thief. He was up stealing from the Harfoots last night. Took a pretty little necklace from your employees. I’m takin’ him with me, so he can’t take anything else from our neighbors.” Kalimac began to speak, but Fredigar brushed him off and shoved the boy ahead of him. “You won’t ever steal another item from us again, you here me, boy?”

Despite Crispin’s loud complaints, and those from his father, Fredigar (with a tag-along Proudfoot) took the Whitfoot lad back to his wagon where he made an announcement to all the settlers that they were not to fear…he’d found and apprehended their thief.