“Get his gun!” muttered the Unknown hoarsely to Bailey as he tore the Bat’s lean hands away from his throat. “Got it?”
“Yes,” gasped Bailey. He jabbed the muzzle against a straining back. The Bat ceased to struggle. Bailey stepped a little away.
“I’ve still got you covered!” he said fiercely. The Bat made no sound.
“Hold out your hands, Bat, while I put on the bracelets,” commanded the Unknown in tones of terse triumph. He snapped the steel cuffs on the wrists of the murderous prowler. “Sometimes even the cleverest Bat comes through a window at night and is caught. Double murder—burglary—and arson! That’s a good night’s work even for you, Bat!”
He switched his flashlight on the Bat’s masked face. As he did so the house lights came on; the electric light company had at last remembered its duties. All blinked for an instant in the sudden illumination.
“Take off that handkerchief!” barked the Unknown, motioning at the black silk handkerchief that still hid the face of the Bat from recognition. Bailey stripped it from the haggard, desperate features with a quick movement—and stood appalled.
A simultaneous gasp went up from Dale and Miss Cornelia.
It was Anderson, the detective! And he was—the Bat!
“It’s Mr. Anderson!” stuttered Dale, aghast at the discovery.
The Unknown gloated over his captive.