"The fellow told you really nothing," he said thoughtfully, "at least, nothing that we can put to any practical use. He has his own vengeance to gratify, and therefore he is not in the least anxious to assist the law."
"He knew more than he would tell," said Prout.
"Of course he did. I shouldn't wonder if he knew where that woman is hiding. I am still of opinion that if you can find Balmayne you can find the chief culprit. If you come to me tomorrow evening I may manage to hammer out something, but my brain is addled for the present. I have a theory of my own, but it sounds a little too cold at present."
Prout dutifully returned the following evening, but Lawrence had nothing fresh to offer. He still clung to his new theory, but it was not sufficiently developed for practical use. And he didn't want to be laughed at, he said.
"I never laugh at your suggestions," Prout replied.
"Well, you're not going to have the chance over this now," said Lawrence. "If I had my own way----what a row those newsboys are making!"
There were yelling in the street below. As they passed their raucous cries uprose so that from the babel some sense could be made--
"The Corner House Mystery! Startling Developments! René Lalage's Escape From Holloway! A Warder Seriously Injured! The Culprit Succeeds In Getting Clear Away!"