lephone, and somehow she had contrived to call the police before she
could be stopped by Logan.

Yes, that was like her! Then Logan had been scared and let her go,
lest she should be found and he should get into disgrace. This was the
natural thing for such a man to do in the circumstances, and equally
natural that he should dash out to find a supper companion--some
accommodating fellow whose presence would account for the table with
its two places.

But that he--he, of all men in New York, should be the accommodating
fellow found to screen the beast from punishment! This was the
astounding thing--the terrible thing--and yet, the providential thing.
Through Logan and the coincidence which had brought them together at a
certain moment in the hall of the New Cosmopolitan Club, Petro told
himself that he would by and by reach Winifred Child. It was a hateful
combination of circumstances; but finding her thus would be no worse
than discovering a rare jewel in a toad's head.

While the two detectives tossed off their champagne Peter Rolls sat
still, his thoughts flashing on behind a face deprived of all
expression, as a screen of motionless dark trees can hide the white
rush and sparkle of a cataract. His vague contempt for Jim Logan had
turned in the last few minutes to active loathing, even to hatred. He
wanted the fellow punished, as he would have wanted a rattlesnake to
have its poison fangs drawn. He wished to speak out and tell the now
laughing policemen the brief story of Logan's hurried visit to the
club.

Down would go the half-full champagne glasses on the table. The
cheerful grins would be wiped from the two strong faces as by an
artist who, with a stroke, changes the expression of a portrait. Peter
Rolls's word was at least as good as Jim Logan's. Questions would be
asked. Jottings would be made in notebooks. Perhaps they would both
have to go to the police station. The girl's name would be demanded;
Logan might be forced to tell it. That would be one way of finding
Winifred--but it would be a way intolerable.

If only Peter were certain--as certain as he was of her
innocence--that she wasn't hidden in the house, he would let the
detectives go quietly and get the truth out of Logan himself
afterward. But--could he be certain? Had he a right to take such
chances when the girl's safety might depend on police knowledge of her
whereabouts?

It was reasonable to suppose that Logan had put her into the street