Before the day ended all the guessing and surmising had simmered down to a few unquestioned facts. Seymour Covell had been kicked by a Townsend horse, he was unconscious, had remained so ever since it happened, and Doctor Bailey, and the other doctors who had been summoned by telegraph from Boston, were very much worried about him and were considering taking him to a big Boston hospital where they might have to perform an operation. Oh, yes! and it was Bob Griffin, Elisha Cook’s grandson from Denboro, who had found him dying by the side of the road, had lifted him, “all alone by himself, just think of it!” into the two-seater and driven him home to the mansion. So much was sure and certain, but there was so much that was uncertain--and curious. No one seemed to know just where the accident happened. Covell had been almost the last to leave the town hall. The very last, except Asa Bloomer, the janitor, so it was said. And that was just before midnight. Now some one had been told by some one, who had been told by Captain Ben Snow, who got it from Foster Townsend himself, that Bob did not bring Seymour Covell home until after two in the morning. Where had Covell been all this time? It was scarcely possible that he had lain unconscious beside the main road for two hours, without either the span or the two-seater or himself having been seen by any one. “Why, Asa Bloomer never left that hall until after one and then he walked right straight up the main road. _He_ never saw nothing out of the way, says so himself, he does.” And it was particularly strange that Bob Griffin should have been the one to find the injured man. Several people had seen Bob at the rear of the hall during the opera. Where had _he_ been from eleven until almost two? Queer enough that he and Covell could drop out of sight so completely. Griffin--witness the testimony of the livery stable keeper--had left the Cook horse and buggy at the stable; they were there at twelve-thirty when the stableman went to bed, leaving the door unlocked as was his custom. In the morning they were gone, so Griffin must have come for them some time or other.