by Mary Roberts Rinehart and Avery Hopwood

“ She went over to ring for Billy.
Lizzie took the opportunity to gain her ear.
"I don't trust him, Miss Neily! He's too smooth!" she whispered warningly. Miss Cornelia stiffened. "I haven't asked for your opinion, Lizzie," she said.
But Lizzie was not to be put off by the Van Gorder manner.
"Oh," she whispered, "you're just as bad as all the rest of 'em. A good-looking man comes in the door and your brains fly out the window!" ”

“ Instead, Miss Cornelia seemed to grow more determined.
"Besides," she said, suddenly deciding to share the secret she had hugged to herself all day, "I might as well tell you, Lizzie. I'm having a detective sent down to-night from police headquarters in the city."
"A detective?" Lizzie's face was horrified. "Miss Neily, you're keeping something from me! You know something I don't know."
"I hope so. I daresay he will be stupid enough. Most of them are. But at least we can have one proper night's sleep."
"Not I. I trust no man," said Lizzie. But Miss Cornelia had picked up the paper again. ”

“ After he comes you may go to bed. I'll wait up for Miss Dale—oh, and Billy," arresting him at the door, "see that all the outer doors on this floor are locked and bring the keys here."
Billy nodded and departed. Miss Cornelia took a long breath. Now that the moment for waiting had passed—the moment for action come—she felt suddenly indomitable, prepared to face a dozen Bats!
Her feelings were not shared by her maid. "I know what all this means," moaned Lizzie. "I tell you there's going to be a death, sure!"
"There certainly will be if you don't keep quiet," said her mistress acidly. ”

“ Lizzie started to obey, going toward the alcove to ascend to the second floor by the alcove stairs. But Miss Cornelia stopped her.
"Lizzie—you know that stair rail's just been varnished—Miss Dale got a stain on her sleeve there this afternoon—and Lizzie——"
"Yes'm?"
"No one is to know that he is a detective. Not even Billy." Miss Cornelia was very firm.
"Well, what'll I say he is?"
"It's nobody's business."
"A detective," moaned Lizzie, opening the hall door to go by the main staircase. "Tiptoeing around with his eye to all the keyholes. A body won't be safe in the bathtub." ”

“ Good night, Brooks."
"Good night, ma'am," said the young man smiling. Following Billy to the door, he paused. "You're being mighty good to me," he said diffidently, smiled again, and disappeared after Billy.
As the door closed behind them, Miss Cornelia found herself smiling too. "That's a pleasant young fellow—no matter what he is," she said to herself decidedly, and not even Lizzie's feverish "Haven't you any sense taking strange men into the house? How do you know he isn't the Bat?" ”

“ That shrewd, rather aquiline face, with its keen gray eyes, would have found itself more at home in a wider sphere of action, she thought—there was just that touch of ruthlessness about it which makes or mars a captain in the world's affairs. ”

“ Once an intruder actually got in and was frightened away by Lizzie at the top of that staircase." She indicated the alcove-stairs. "And twice I have received anonymous communications threatening my life if I did not leave the house and go back to the city."
Dale rose from her settee, startled.
"I didn't know that, Auntie! How dreadful!" she gasped.
Instantly Miss Cornelia regretted her impulse of confidence. She tried to pass the matter off with tart humor.
"Don't tell Lizzie," she said. "She'd yell like a siren. It's the only thing she does like a siren, but she does it superbly!" ”

“ Bailey—Bailey—she was sure she remembered that name—on Dale's lips.
"Dale, dear, did you know this young Bailey?" she asked point-blank.
The girl had started to light a cigarette. The flame wavered in her fingers—the match went out.
"Yes—slightly," she said. She bent to strike another match, averting her face. Miss Cornelia did not press her.
"What with bank robberies and bolshevism and the income tax," she said, turning the subject, "the only way to keep your money these days is to spend it." ”

“ Bray were here——" he began, then flushed and stopped, twisting his cap.
"Were here?" said Miss Cornelia in a curious voice. "Are you a professional gardener?"
"Yes." The young man's manner had grown a trifle defiant but Miss Cornelia's next question followed remorselessly.
"Know anything about hardy perennials?" she said in a soothing voice, while Lizzie regarded the interview with wondering eyes.
"Oh, yes," but the young man seemed curiously lacking in confidence. "They—they're the ones that keep their leaves during the winter, aren't they?" ”