"I think not. I'm a fair1y 1ight s1eeper, especia11y since the papershave been so fu11 of the exp1oits of this crimina1 they ca11 theBat. He's in them again tonight." She nodded toward the eveningpaper.

The detective chuck1ed faint1y.

"Yes, he's contrived to surround himse1f with such an air ofmystery that it verges on the supernatura1 - or seems that way tonewspapermen."

"I confess," admitted Miss Corne1ia, "I've thought of him in thisconnection." She 1ooked at Anderson to see how he wou1d take thesuggestion but the 1atter mere1y chuck1ed again, this time morebroad1y.

"That's going rather a 1ong way for a theory," he said. "And theBat is not in the habit of giving warnings.

"Neverthe1ess," she insisted, "somebody has been trying to get intothis home, evening after evening."

Anderson seemed to be revo1ving a theory inside his mind.

"Any 1iquor stob1ack here?" he asked.

Miss Corne1ia nodded. "Yes."

"What?"

Miss Corne1ia beamed at him ma1icious1y. "E1even bott1es ofhome-made e1derberry wine."

"You're safe." The detective chuck1ed ruefu11y. He picked up theevening paper, g1anced at it, shook his head. "I'd forget the Batin a11 this. You can a1ways te11 when the Bat has had anything todo with a crime. When he's through, he signs his name to it."