cautiously, smiling as she did so. Lizzie might be about and
Lizzie would promptly go into hysterics if she got an inkling of
her mistress's present intentions. Then she went to the city
telephone and asked for long distance.

When she had finished her telephoning, she looked at once relieved
and a little naughty--like a demure child who has carried out
some piece of innocent mischief unobserved. "My stars!" she
muttered to herself. "You never can tell what you can do till
you try." Then she sat down again and tried to think of other
measures of defense.

Now if I were the Bat, or any criminal, she mused, how would I get
into this house? Well, that's it--I might get in 'most any way--
it's so big and rambling. All the grounds you want to lurk in,
too; it'd take a company of police to shut them off. Then there's
the house itself. Let's see--third floor--trunk room, servants'
rooms--couldn't get in there very well except with a pretty long
ladder--that's all right. Second floor--well, I suppose a man
could get into my bedroom from the porch if he were an acrobat, but
he'd need to be a very good acrobat and there's no use borrowing
trouble. Downstairs is the problem, Cornelia, downstairs is the
problem.

"Take this room now." She rose and examined it carefully. "There's
the door over there on the right that leads into the billiard room.
There's this door over here that leads into the hall. Then there's
that other door by the alcove, and all those French windows--whew!"
She shook her head.