"It's got to ask uss a quesstion, my preciouss, yes, yess, yesss. Jusst one more question to guess, yes, yess," said Gollum. But Bilbo simply could not think of any question with that nasty wet cold thing sitting next to him, and pawing and poking him. He scratched himself, he pinched himself; still he could not think of anything.
"Ask us! ask us!" said Gollum.
Bilbo pinched himself and slapped himself; he gripped on his little sword; he even felt in his pocket with his other hand. There he found the ring he had picked up in the passage and forgotten about.
"What have I got in my pocket?" he said aloud. He was talking to himself, but Gollum thought it was a riddle, and he was frightfully upset.
"Not fair! not fair!" he hissed. "It isn't fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it's got in its nassty little pocketses?"
Bilbo seeing what had happened and having nothing better to ask stuck to his question, "What have I got in my pocket?" he said louder.
"S-s-s-s-s," hissed Gollum. "It must give us three guesses, my precious, three guesseses."
"Very well! Guess away!" said Bilbo.
"Handses!" said Gollum.
"Wrong!" said Bilbo, who had luckily just taken his hand out again. "Guess again!"
"Sssssss." Gollum said. He thought of all the things he kept in his own pockets: fishbones, goblins’ teeth, wet shells, a bit of bat-wing, a sharpening stone to sharpen his fangs on. He tried to think what other people kept in their pockets.
"Wrong!" Bilbo shouted. "Last guess!"
Gollum hissed and spluttered and rocked backwards and forwards, slapped his feet on the floor, wriggled and squirmed. But he dared not waste his last guess.
"Time’s up!" Bilbo said.
"String—or nothing!" gasped Gollum.
"Both wrong!" Bilbo jumped at once to his feet and held out his sword. "And now you must show the way out!"