Only George, who had no nerve to lose, and Monica, who was not committed, really retained their balance; with the quite natural consequence that they had to balance each other, mostly in the car. If you had asked George at that time whether he had any complex about hose-pipes, he would have replied according to the best judicial models: “What is a hose-pipe?” He would then have taken Monica out for another driving lesson. As for Alan, nobody seemed to want him much. Monica even went so far as to remark that if he came mooning round her any more, she’d lock him in the coal-cellar for a day or two and see how he liked it. To which Alan replied very fraternally indeed, with much recourse to the name of “George.” Monica, very pink but beautifully dignified, forbore to retort, chiefly because for once she had nothing to say, and walked off with her small nose very much in the air. Alan then abandoned the study of footprints for that of Guy’s Canadian canoe. Having fallen into the river seven times in an endeavour to learn how to propel this treacherous craft standing upright in the stern with a punt-pole, he felt a good deal better. Duffley was not the only place where people were puzzled during these days. All that portion of the population whose breakfast-tables were enlivened by _The Daily Courier_, shared a common bewilderment. For _The Courier_ was just as bewildered as its readers. In other papers only the briefest notices had appeared regarding the Duffley entertainment, in some it had not even been mentioned at all. Their reporters had gone down on Sunday, investigated, and one and all returned to report that in their opinion there was something fishy about the whole thing, and a non-committal attitude, amounting even to complete ignorance, would be the wiser policy. _The Courier_, having already committed itself, could only pursue, at any rate for a day or two, the line it had adopted, but a shrewd man was sent down, unknown to Mr. Doyle, to look into matters himself. His subsequent report, though quite admitting the possibility that things might be as they had seemed, caused the editor some very thoughtful moments; but though inscribing Mr. Doyle’s name on a mental black list, he continued perforce to publish that gentleman’s reports. As soon as possible, however, these were shifted from the chief news-page to the secondary, progressing thence by easy stages to a corner among the advertisements; at the same time editorial notes were added in which a distinctly sceptical tone was to be discerned. Readers of _The Courier_ who were conversant with their favourite’s habits knew that by the end of the week it would be as if there were no such place as Duffley at all. In the meantime the streams of information which continued to pour into _The Courier_’s offices regarding the broken noses of the British Isles were diverted into the waste-paper basket.