The Hobbit

said Bilbo.
    “Never guessed!” said Gollum. Then suddenly out of the gloom came a sharp hiss. “What has it got in its pocketses? Tell us
     that. It must tell first.”
    As far as Bilbo knew, there was no particular reason why he should not tell. Gollum’s mind had jumped to a guess quicker than
     his; naturally, for Gollum had brooded for ages on this one thing, and he was always afraid of its being stolen. But Bilbo
     was annoyed at the delay. After all, he had won the game, pretty fairly, at a horrible risk. “Answers were to be guessed not
     given,” he said.
    “But it wasn’t a fair question,” said Gollum. “Not a riddle, precious, no.”
    “Oh well, if it’s a matter of ordinary questions,” Bilbo replied, “then I asked one first. What have you lost? Tell me that!”
    “What has it got in its pocketses?” The sound came hissing louder and sharper, and as he looked towards it, to his alarm Bilbo
     now saw two small points of light peering at him. As suspicion grew in Gollum’s mind, the light of his eyes burned with a
     pale flame.
    “What have you lost?” Bilbo persisted.
    But now the light in Gollum’s eyes had become a green fire, and it was coming swiftly nearer. Gollum was in his boat again,
     paddling wildly back to the dark shore; and such a rage of loss and suspicion was in his heart that no sword had any more terror for him.
    Bilbo could not guess what had maddened the wretched creature, but he saw that all was up, and that Gollum meant to murder
     him at any rate. Just in time he turned and ran blindly back up the dark passage down which he had come, keeping close to
     the wall and feeling it with his left hand.
    “What has it got in its pocketses?” he heard the hiss loud behind him, and the splash as Gollum leapt from his boat. “What
     have I, I wonder?” he said to himself, as he panted and stumbled along. He put his left hand in his pocket. The ring felt
     very cold as it quietly slipped on to his groping forefinger.
    The hiss was close behind him. He turned now and saw Gollum’s eyes like small green lamps coming up the slope. Terrified he
     tried to run faster, but suddenly he struck his toes on a snag in the floor, and fell flat with his little sword under him.
    In a moment Gollum was on him. But before Bilbo could do anything, recover his breath, pick himself up, or wave his sword,
     Gollum passed by, taking no notice of him, cursing and whispering as he ran.
    What could it mean? Gollum could see in the dark. Bilbo could see the light of his eyes palely shining even from behind. Painfully
     he got up, and sheathed his sword, which was now glowing faintly again, then very cautiously he followed. There seemed nothing
     else to do. It was no good crawling back down to Gollum’s water. Perhaps if he followed him, Gollum might lead him to some
     way of escape without meaning to.
    “Curse it! curse it! curse it!” hissed Gollum. “Curse the Baggins! It’s gone! What has it got in its pocketses? Oh we guess,
     we guess, my precious. He’s found it, yes he must have. My birthday-present.”
    Bilbo pricked up his ears. He was at last beginning to guess himself. He hurried a little, getting as close as he dared behind
     Gollum, who was still going quickly, not looking back, but turning his head from side to side, as Bilbo could see from the
     faint glimmer on the walls.
    “My birthday-present! Curse it! How did we lose it, my precious? Yes, that’s it. When we came this way last, when we twisted
     that nassty young squeaker. That’s it. Curse it! It slipped from us, after all these ages and ages! It’s gone, gollum.”
    Suddenly Gollum sat down and began to weep, a whistling and gurgling sound horrible to listen to. Bilbo halted and flattened
     himself against the tunnel-wall. After a while Gollum stopped weeping and began to talk. He seemed to be having an argument
     with himself.
    “It’s no good going back there to search, no. We doesn’t remember all the places we’ve visited. And it’s no use. The Baggins
     has got it in its pocketses; the nassty noser has found it, we says.”
    “We guesses, precious, only guesses. We can’t know till we find the nassty creature and squeezes it. But it doesn’t know what
     the present can do, does it? It’ll just keep it in its pocketses. It doesn’t know, and it can’t go far. It’s lost itself,
     the nassty nosey thing. It doesn’t know the way out. It said so.”
    “It said so, yes; but it’s tricksy. It