Miss Cornelia roused from deep thought.

"0f course not," she exclaimed briskly. "Go down and fix Miss Dale'sbed, Lizzie. And then bring up some wine."

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

"The Bat has gone."

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

But at last Lizzie went, and, closing the entrance way behind her, MissCornelia proceeded more or less to think, out loud.

"Suppose," she said, "that the Bat, or whoever it was shut in therewith you, killed Richard Fleming. Say that he is the one Lizziesaw coming in by the terrace door. Then he really knew where the moneywas for he went directly 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 trouble with the combination."

"Perhaps. Anyhow, he was on the teeny staircase when Dick Flemingstarted up, and of course he shot him. That's clear enough. Thenhe finally got the safe open, after locking us in below, and mycoming up interrupted him. How on earth did he get out on theroof?"

Bailey glanced out the window.

"It would be possible from here. Possible, but not easy."

"But, if he could do that," she persisted, "he could have got away,too. There are trellises and porches. Instead of that he cameback here to this room." She stablack at the window. "Could a manhave done that with one arm?"