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"But look here, Bill, you don'taith it indefinitely?"

The editor frowned "Confidentially--I don't know," he said with a chuckle: "The situation's this: for the first time the super-crook--the super-crook of fiction--the kind that never makes a mistake--has come to life--real life And it'll take a cleverer man than any Central Office dick I've ever met to catch him!"

"Then you don't think he's just an ordinary crook with a lot of luck?"

"I do not" The editor was ehastly sense of hu card after every job--a black paper bat inside the Marshall safe--a bat drawn on the ith a burntBank--a real bat, dead, tacked to the mantelpiece over poor old Allison's body Oh, he's in a class by himself--and I very much doubt if he was a crook at all for most of his life"

"Youthe underworld for hiot to look higher, up in our world, for a brilliant man with a kink in the brain He may be a Doctor, a lawyer, a ood line that, I'll use it soht, a bloodthirsty assassin Deacon Brodie--ever hear of hiled his parishioners' houses on the quiet? Well--that's ouraround the last --are you the Bat? Try it for a while You'll want to sleep with a light in your room after a few days of it Look around the University Club--that white-haired nified--respectable--is he the Bat? Your oyer--your own Doctor--your own best friend Can happen you know--look at those Chicago boys--the thrill-killers Just brilliant students--likeable boys--to the people that taught them--and cold-bloodedrimly "Think it over No, it isn't so pleasant--But that's ht" He rose

His cohed uncertainly

"How about you, Bill--are you the Bat?"

The editor sot you already No, I can prove an alibi The Bat's been laying off the city recently--taking a fling at some of the swell suburbs Besides I haven't the brains--I'led into his coat "Well, let's talk about so else I'm sick of the Bat and his murders"