All eyes turned to the voice and owner of the burly hands. It was none other than Tobold Took. Toby, as he's most often called, was another traveling sales hobbit, so to speak, but of a much different ilk than Olo Potts. He had the reputation of being an honest person with which to do business. First of all, he didn’t travel about the countryside in a rattletrap cart, going from door to door. And secondly, as far as I knew Toby dealt exclusively in Dr. Otton’s goods. And, although Toby is a very jovial person, capable of bantering and jesting with the best of them, at this particular moment the look upon his face told that he meant business.

"Don't drink it!" he commanded again.

"Why not?" Tolman asked, astonished. "We was just goin' to take a sip. Not the whole bottle."

"One sip or the whole bottle doesn't matter," Toby said as he whisked the bottles out of both of their of hands. "You'd both be either very ill or... possibly worse no matter how much you drank."

The room went quiet and in an instant, everyone in the Green Dragon congregated around our table.

"What's wrong wi' it?" someone asked, backing away.

Toby whisked Ted Sandyman’s mug of ale out of his hand.

"Here now!" Ted protested in a miffed voice.

Toby ignored him and downed the remainder of Ted’s ale in one swallow, after which, he slapped the mug down on the table with a loud thump. Without a word of explanation he poured a little of the elixir into the empty mug. The concoction fizzed and foamed with a hiss and a bit of a mist seemed to form over the top of the mug, spilling over the rim.Then, pulling out his handkerchief, he dipped a corner of it into the brew. Carefully, Toby lifted the hanky up and spread it open for all to see. The corner of the hanky was rapidly falling apart right in front of our eyes.

Sam gasped, and Tolman's face went white as he sat down quickly. "We almost drank that stuff!" he whispered hoarsely, then grew silent. As a matter of fact, there was a sudden hush over the entire room. It couldn’t have been any more quiet in that room than if it had been an hour after closing time. As if in unison, every hobbit present pulled out a bottle or two from their coat and trouser pockets and began to pile the bottles on the table.

As I watched, I noticed that not even the labels matched much less the bottles. I looked at Toby. "What is going on, Toby?"

"We were getting huge amounts of letters from hobbits demanding their money back for having bought our Famous Feel Good Tonic," he began to explain. "But the problem was, the area where the complaints were coming from was an area that I hadn't ever been to yet."

"Oi don' understand," Sam said. "You go everywhere selling stuff, don't ya?"

Toby nodded. "I do, but I don't generally sell my goods directly to the customer. I usually set up a deal with grocers and innkeepers an’ the like, to sell Doctor Otton goods to their customers. When hobbits started complaining about having bought some elixir from a peddler, my employer and I realized there was someone out there selling fake Doctor Otton's tonics! I've been following the route that hobbits said the peddler traveled in hopes of stopping him before someone else gets hurt or worse, killed."

That started a heated argument began over Olo’s fate once he was caught. A few folks felt that tarring and feathering might be suitable punishment, and others were of the opinion that tossing him in the lockholes in Michel Delving for awhile might be even better. Still, a few more felt that a combination of both would see justice served.

Toby waved his arms to get everyone's full attention. "What I need to know, now, is where he is so I can stop him!"

Everyone started talking at once. "I jus' saw 'im yesterday over by the Mill!"

"Oi saw 'im this 'ere mornin' comin' up th' lane to Overhill!"

"We'll help you catch him!" someone yelled, and the crowd echoed the sentiment.

"NO!" Toby was adament. "If he gets wind of a mob of folks after him, he'll know something is wrong. He’ll run for sure. But, if I go by myself, I have a much better chance of keeping him from going any further than he already has."

There was some grumbling among the crowd. They wanted justice and they wanted it now. The complaining grew louder. I feared there would be trouble so, without a moment’s hesitation, I climbed up on my chair to get everyone's attention. "I'll buy a round for everyone here if each of you will cooperate and tell Toby when and where you last saw Mister Potts."

Quicker than you could say 'Long live the Shire,' everyone was clamoring to spill any information on the whereabouts of Olo Potts to Toby, who after being supplied with a quill, ink and some parchment, sat down and began jotting down notes for later reference.

The last ones to talk to Toby were Sam and myself.

"Really," I said, "It was early this morning when Olo showed up at Bag End. I'm sure he has sold to other hobbits in Hobbiton since then."

"I have a fair idea of which way he's headed and just what it is besides the tonic he's trying to pass off as Doctor Otton goods."

Sam's eyebrows went up. "You mean 'e's tryin' t' sell other stuff, too?"

"Flour, cookies, ginger beer, you name it."

Sam snorted. "Doctor Otton sells that kinda stuff? Oi only thought 'e 'ad th' tonic." Then he shook his head in disbelief. "If any o' that stuff on that wagon was made by Doctor Otton, Oi'm surprised you still 'ave a job wi' him!"

Toby had to laugh. "Yes, I've heard of some of the stuff Mister Potts has tried to sell. Old rugs, flimsy pots and pans, fake jewelry, and even carvings said to be from far off lands."

"But," he continued. "What I’m most I'm concerned about are the things that he's claiming are Doctor Otton's. The tonic is just one item. He's selling flour with Doctor Otton's seal on the bag. Even jugs of beer and ale claiming them to be made by Doctor Otton! The problem is, the beer and ale are definitely very poor quality and may have things substituted or added to them --just like this so-called tonic-- He’s liable to end up poisoning someone! THAT's why I have to stop him."

"You don’t believe..." I asked, concerned for my fellow hobbits. "...that Mister Potts is actually out to harm someone...do you?"

"No, I don't. But I do believe he’s under the delusion that he has hit on a sure way to make a tidy profit." Toby replied.