"Well, it's mighty smart of you, that's all I can say!" young Mr. Rolls went on. "What do you call being thorough—not 'leaving a stone unturned?' Here, for instance how can you be sure you've looked in every hole and cranny where Mr. Logan might have stowed a young woman in a dead faint, if he wanted to fool you?"
Both men laughed. "You ought to bin with us when we went on our trip around the house!"
"I wish I had! It would have been a sort of experience," said Peter. "I sometimes read detective stories and wonder if they're like the real thing. When you were out of the room I was thinking if we'd had a girl hidden in here—behind the curtains, for instance—we might have sneaked her away when you were upstairs or down in the basement."
They laughed again, patronizing the amateur. "You
must take us for Uncle Ezras from Wayback!" genially sneered he who claimed leadership. "We didn't 'both' go upstairs—or in the basement. While I waited in the hall my mate slipped down and locked the door that lets into the area and brought away the key on him. What's more, he did something to the keyhole—a little secret we know—that would have told us if any one had used another key while we were gone. But no one did. Good guard was kept, and if a mouse had tried to slip by we'd 'a' caught it."
"But what if a mouse had tried to hide?" suggested Peter Rolls.
"We'd 'a' found it. There ain't a closet or a pair o' curtains or a shower bath or bookcase or a screen or bureau or table or bed that's had a chance to keep a secret from us––"
"Did you ever hear the song of 'The Mistletoe Bough?'" inquired the doubter.
"You bet we did. You don't have to show us! We snooped all around the trunk room and rummaged in every box big enough to hold a dwarf. None of 'em was locked, but if they had been—why, we go around prepared."
"You don't look as if you'd done much prowling in the coal cellar, anyhow!" laughed Peter.