Before Petro could answer, if he had an answer ready, there were deep voices in the hall.  Then the door was opened by Sims, and two plain-clothes policemen stepped briskly in.

“Hello!  What’s up?  House on fire?” exclaimed Logan, pausing in the act of handing a dish of iced caviar to his guest.

“We’re not from the fire department,” said the elder and smarter looking of the pair, civilly, yet with a certain grimness.  “I guess you know that well enough.  We’ve been sent here on a hurry call on your ’phone to the police—­a girl supposed to be detained in the house against her will.”  And keen eyes took in the details of the room.

Logan broke into a jovial guffaw.  “Girl?  Well, of all—­the freak—­stunts!” he chortled.  “Say, Rolls, are you the great female impersonator?  Ha, ha!”

“Sorry to interrupt you and your friend,” remarked the detective, still grimly, though he had caught and been slightly impressed by the name of Rolls, as the speaker had, perhaps, intended.  Logan as a name also carried some weight in New York.  One was not rude to a Logan until sure how far and fast duty compelled one to proceed.  “But I gotta ask you straight whether there’s a girl in this house, and you’d better answer the same way.”

Logan stopped laughing.  “Really, I thought at first you were some of the fellows from the club got up in disguise for a joke,” he said.  “Of course I’ll answer you straight.  There’s no girl in this house so far as I know, and hasn’t been since my sister went away with the rest of the folks, 2d of June.  I can’t think how such a—­but gee! yes, I can!  The silly old sucker!  I bet it’s a put-up job.”

“What d’ye mean?” the plain-clothes man wanted to know.

“Why, does the name of Frederick Doland Fortescue mean anything to you?”

“We know who he is.”

“Well, then, I guess you know he’s the champion practical joker of this burg.  He was here a while ago—­hasn’t been gone a quarter of an hour.  Went just before Mr. Rolls came in.  Asked if he could use the telephone.  I said yes, and my servant showed him into my mother’s boudoir next to this room.  I heard him ring up some one, but didn’t get what he said.  I noticed when he was through he came out chuckling, and then he was off like a shot—­told me he had a date uptown somewhere.  That’s all I know, but it would be like him to play just such a fool trick on you and me.”

“Seems ’twas a woman’s voice at the ’phone.”

“Gee!  I did sort of get onto it, he was mimicking a girl!  Sounded kind of shrill, but I didn’t pay attention.  He’s always up to some lark.  You’re welcome to go over the house, though, if you don’t believe me.”

“It ain’t a question of believing or not,” said the detective.  “But we’ll have to look around.”

“All right!” returned Logan, still with that perfect good nature which was having its effect on the two intruders.  “Would you rather do the job by your lones, or shall my man show you the way?  I suppose you don’t mind us going on with our supper if I spare you Sims and we help ourselves to food?”