There was no doubt in
her mind as to his identity. It was the Bat, and in a moment more
he would be shut in there with her.
She tried to scream and could not, and the next instant, when the
Bat leaped into concealment beside her, she was in a dead faint on
the floor.
Bailey meanwhile had crawled out on the roof and was carefully
searching it. But other things were happening also. A disinterested
observer could have seen very soon why the Bat had abandoned the
window as a means of egress.
Almost before the mantel had swung to behind the archcriminal,
the top of a tall pruning ladder had appeared at the window and by
its quivering showed that someone was climbing up, rung by rung.
Unsuspiciously enough he came on, pausing at the top to flash a
light into the room, and then cautiously swinging a leg over the
sill. It was the Doctor. He gave a low whistle but there was no
reply, save that, had he seen it, the mantel swung out an inch or
two. Perhaps he was never so near death as at that moment but
that instant of irresolution on his part saved him, for by
coming into the room he had taken himself out of range.
Even then he was very close to destruction, for after a brief pause
and a second rather puzzled survey of the room, he started toward
the mantel itself. Only the rattle of the doorknob stopped him,
and a call from outside.
"Dale!" called Bailey's voice from the corridor. "Dale!"
"Dale! Dale! The door's locked!" cried Miss Cornelia.
Pages:
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218