At nine o’clock that evening Dick started out for the Thorntons’ house, revolving in his mind a dozen questions that he intended to ask the governor if he got the chance. The governor was to drive over; for although Russellville is less than an hour’s ride from New York it is several miles from the nearest railway. It is a slow, old-fashioned town and its Record is a slow, old-fashioned newspaper; but that was in Dick’s favor, for none but a very old-fashioned paper could have sent its office boy to interview the governor of the State. As he went down the quiet street, Dick saw that something unusual was going on. People were gathered in little groups talking; and almost a crowd, for Russellville, stood in front of the drugstore. “What is it?” he asked. “What is the matter?” “The governor,” was the answer, “has been killed!” “No, not killed,” said another, “but very badly injured. The horses ran away and he was thrown out. They have taken him to his sister’s, and three doctors are trying to bring him back to life. He has been unconscious ever since the accident.” For a moment Dick was dazed; and then there came upon him that feeling of responsibility that comes even to an old reporter when an important piece of news lies before him. To verify the report--he was sure that that was what he ought to do first, for such things are often exaggerated. He hurried on to the Thornton house and found a crowd in front. While he waited one of the doctors came out; and Dick, knowing him, stepped into the carriage with him. Yes, the rumor was only too true. The horses had taken fright, Governor Wright had been thrown out; he had been carried unconscious to his sister’s house, and the physicians had found a bad fracture of the left thigh. There were injuries to the head, too, but it was impossible to say yet how serious. The doctor was hurrying after splints and bandages and would return to the house. Dick could go back with him, he said, and see the governor’s secretary, who was in the party. It was while he rode in the carriage with the doctor that an idea came to Dick which changed his whole subsequent life. Here was news, he was sure of it; a serious accident to the governor of a great State was news that even the big city papers would print, and if they would print it they would pay for it. He might make three dollars, a whole week’s wages, if he could get the news to one of the morning newspapers. No telegraph office in Russellville was open at that hour, but there was a train for the city at eleven o’clock, if he could get a friend to drive him over to the station. With this idea in his head Dick worked like a Trojan. To see the governor was out of the question, but he saw the secretary and talked with him. Then he saw the doctors and got a brief written statement from one of them. The driver had a story to tell, and Dick made full notes of it all. In an hour he felt sure that he had everything at his fingers’ ends.