either non-obtainable or
utterly vague. He heard of them from Peppermore, whose journalistic
itching for news had so far gone unrelieved; Peppermore himself knew no
more than that rumour was busy, and secret.

"Can't make out for the life of me what it is, Mr. Brent!" said
Peppermore, calling upon Brent at the _Chancellor_ on the eve of the
inquiry. "But there's something, sir, something! You know that boy of
mine--young Pryder?"

"Smart youth!" replied Brent.

"As they make 'em, sir," agreed Peppermore. "That boy, Mr. Brent, will
go far in the profession of which you're a shining and I'm a dim
light!--he's got what the French, I believe, sir, call a _flair_ for
news. Took to our line like a duck to water, Mr. Brent! Well, now, young
Pryder's father is a policeman--sergeant in the Borough Constabulary,
and naturally he's opportunities of knowing. And when he knows he
talks--in the home circle, Mr. Brent."

"Been talking?" asked Brent.

"Guardedly, sir, guardedly!" replied Peppermore. "Young Pryder, he told
me this afternoon that his father, when he came home to dinner to-day,
said to him and his mother that when the inquest's reopened to-morrow
there's be something to talk about--somebody, said Sergeant Pryder,
would have something to talk of before the day was over. So--there you
are!"

"I suppose old Pryder didn't tell young Pryder any more than that?"
suggested Brent.

"He did not, sir," said Peppermore. "Had he done so, Jimmy Pryder would
have made half a column, big type, leaded, out of it. No; nothing more.
There are men in this world, Mr. Brent, as you have doubtless observed,
who are given to throwing out mere hints--sort of men who always look at
you as much as to say, 'Ah, I could tell a lot if I would!' I guess
Sergeant Pryder's one of 'em."

"Whatever Sergeant Pryder knows he's got from Hawthwaite, of course,"
remarked Brent.

"To be sure, sir!" agreed Peppermore. "Hawthwaite's been up to
something--I've felt that for some days. I imagine there'll be new
witnesses to-morrow, but who they'll be I can't think."

Brent could not think, either, nor did he understand Hawthwaite's
reserve. But he wasted no time in speculation: he had already made up
his mind that unless something definite arose at the resumed inquiry he
would employ professional detective assistance and get to work on lines
of his own. He had already seen enough of Hathelsborough ways and
Hathelsborough folk to feel convinced that if