The Bat | Page 9

the servants seemed unusually nervous for
people who were used to the country. And Lizzie, of course, had sworn
that she had seen a man trying to get up the stairs but Lizzie could grow
hysterical over a creaking door. Still - it was queer! And what had that
affable Doctor Wells said to her - "I respect your courage, Miss Van
Gorder - moving out into the Bat's home country, you know!" She
picked up the paper again. There was a map of the scene of the Bat's
most recent exploits and, yes, three of his recent crimes had been
within a twenty-mile radius of this very spot. She thought it over and
gave a little shudder of pleasurable fear. Then she dismissed the
thought with a shrug. No chance! She might live in a lonely house, two
miles from the railroad station, all summer long - and the Bat would
never disturb her. Nothing ever did.
She had skimmed through the paper hurriedly; now a headline caught
her eye. Failure of Union Bank - wasn't that the bank of which
Courtleigh Fleming had been president? She settled down to read the
article but it was disappointingly brief. The Union Bank had closed its
doors; the cashier, a young man named Bailey, was apparently under
suspicion; the article mentioned Courtleigh Fleming's recent and tragic
death in the best vein of newspaperese. She laid down the paper and
thought - Bailey - Bailey - she seemed to have a vague recollection of
hearing about a young man named Bailey who worked in a bank - but
she could not remember where or by whom his name had been
mentioned.
Well - it didn't matter. She had other things to think about. She must

ring for Lizzie - get up and dress. The bright morning sun, streaming in
through the long window, made lying in bed an old woman's luxury
and she refused to be an old woman.
"Though the worst old woman I ever knew was a man!" she thought
with a satiric twinkle. She was glad Sally's daughter - young Dale
Ogden - was here in the house with her. The companionship of Dale's
bright youth would keep her from getting old-womanish if anything
could.
She smiled, thinking of Dale. Dale was a nice child - her favorite niece.
Sally didn't understand her, of course - but Sally wouldn't. Sally read
magazine articles on the younger generation and its wild ways. "Sally
doesn't remember when she was a younger generation herself," thought
Miss Cornelia. "But I do - and if we didn't have automobiles, we had
buggies - and youth doesn't change its ways just because it has cut its
hair. Before Mr. and Mrs. Ogden left for Europe, Sally had talked to
her sister Cornelia ... long and weightily, on the problem of Dale.
"Problem of Dale, indeed!" thought Miss Cornelia scornfully. "Dale's
the nicest thing I've seen in some time. She'd be ten times happier if
Sally wasn't always trying to marry her off to some young snip with
more of what fools call 'eligibility' than brains! But there, Cornelia Van
Gorder - Sally's given you your innings by rampaging off to Europe
and leaving Dale with you all summer and you've a lot less sense than I
flatter myself you have, if you can't give your favorite niece a happy
vacation from all her immediate family - and maybe find her someone
who'll make her happy for good and all in the bargain." Miss Cornelia
was an incorrigible matchmaker.
Nevertheless, she was more concerned with "the problem of Dale" than
she would have admitted. Dale, at her age, with her charm and beauty -
why, she ought to behave as if she were walking on air, thought her
aunt worriedly. "And instead she acts more as if she were walking on
pins and needles. She seems to like being here - I know she likes me -
I'm pretty sure she's just as pleased to get a little holiday from Sally and
Harry - she amuses herself - she falls in with any plan I want to make,
and yet - " And yet Dale was not happy - Miss Cornelia felt sure of it.

"It isn't natural for a girl to seem so lackluster and - and quiet - at her
age and she's nervous, too - as if something were preying on her mind -
particularly these last few days. If she were in love with somebody -
somebody Sally didn't approve of particularly - well, that would
account for it, of course - but Sally didn't say anything that would make
me think that - or Dale either - though I don't suppose Dale would, yet,
even to me. I haven't seen so much of