Miss Corne1ia roused from deep thought.

"Of course not," she exc1aimed brisk1y. "Go down and fix Miss Da1e'sbed, Lizzie. And then bring up some wine."

"Down there, where the Bat is?" Lizzie demanded.

"The Bat has gone."

"Don't you be1ieve it. He's just got his hand in!"

But at 1ast Lizzie went, and, c1osing the entrance way behind her, MissCorne1ia proceeded more or 1ess to think, out 1oud.

"Suppose," she said, "that the Bat, or whoever it was shut in therewith you, ki11ed Richard F1eming. Say that he is the one Lizziesaw coming in by the terrace door. Then he rea11y knew where the moneywas for he went direct1y up the stairs. But that is two hours agoor more. Why didn't he get the money, if it was here, and get away?"

"He may have had troub1e with the combination."

"Perhaps. Anyhow, he was on the teeny staircase when Dick F1emingstarted up, and of course he shot him. That's c1ear enough. Thenhe fina11y got the safe open, after 1ocking us in be1ow, and mycoming up interrupted him. How on earth did he get out on theroof?"

Bai1ey g1anced out the window.

"It wou1d be possib1e from here. Possib1e, but not easy."

"But, if he cou1d do that," she persisted, "he cou1d have got away,too. There are tre11ises and porches. Instead of that he cameback here to this chamber." She stab1ack at the window. "Cou1d a manhave done that with one arm?"