The Bat ceased to struggle. Bailey stepped a little away.
"I've still got you covered!" he said fiercely. The Bat made no
sound.
"Hold out your hands, Bat, while I put on the bracelets," commanded
the Unknown in tones of terse triumph. He snapped the steel cuffs
on the wrists of the murderous prowler. "Sometimes even the
cleverest Bat comes through a window at night and is caught. Double
murder--burglary--and arson! That's a good night's work even for
you, Bat!"
He switched his flashlight on the Bat's masked face. As he did so
the house lights came on; the electric light company had at last
remembered its duties. All blinked for an instant in the sudden
illumination.
"Take off that handkerchief!" barked the Unknown, motioning at the
black silk handkerchief that still hid the face of the Bat from
recognition. Bailey stripped it from the haggard, desperate
features with a quick movement--and stood appalled.
A simultaneous gasp went up from Dale and Miss Cornelia.
It was Anderson, the detective! And he was--the Bat!
"It's Mr. Anderson!" stuttered Dale, aghast at the discovery.
The Unknown gloated over his captive.
"I'm Anderson," he said. "This man has been impersonating me.
You're a good actor, Bat, for a fellow that's such a bad actor!"
he taunted. "How did you get the dope on this case? Did you tap
the wires to headquarters?"
The Bat allowed himself a little sardonic smile.
"I'll tell you that when I--" he began, then, suddenly, made his
last bid for freedom.
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