The Bat Strikes Again and Again! by Johnston McCulley

Author:Johnston McCulley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Action and Adventure
Publisher: Altus Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Shadow of the Bat

Chapter I

Night of Death

TWO men sat in the sidewalk café in front of Pierre’s. Their table was close alongside a low hedge of shrubbery that separated them from the passing crowds. They were lingering over their evening repast, and a bottle of Chateau Yquem with two thin-stemmed glasses set between them.

The older man, Martin Fenbeck, fingered his pince-nez and cast an uneasy glance at the other diners about them.

“We must not meet again,” he declared. “I tell you, Clade, it is too risky. I am almost positive that I was followed here tonight. If either the police or the underworld learn that you are the Bat—”

“Then my usefulness will be ended, of course,” finished Fenbeck’s companion. “However, Fenbeck, ten years as a private detective taught me one very comforting thing.”

“Just what?”

“A crowd means security. That is why I asked you to meet me here at Pierre’s. Then there is something else.” Clade shot a glance at his wrist-watch. “In just fifteen minutes more, Lucas Prowett and Ben Vinbell will die. The state executioner will send fifteen thousand volts of man-made lightning crashing through their miserable carcasses. Fenbeck, a third man should be there, sharing their fate!”

Fenbeck toyed nervously with his wine glass.

“God, Clade, to think that you sat in that same chair less than two months ago! And are here, alive, to tell it!”

The other smiled thinly. “No, not alive. As Dawson Clade I am legally dead, remember. It is the Bat who lives on. But tell me, Fenbeck. Why did the District Attorney free Stella Dolph?”

Fenbeck shrugged his shoulders, as though hugging his tweeds closer about him, though the night was not cold.

“On orders from that rascally new Governor, Hartow,” he said.

Clade smiled again, but not pleasantly.

“I am going after Hartow tonight. He is our next quarry, Fenbeck!”

“Ours?”

“Precisely so! You, with your private fortune which you pledged to enforce honest government. I, with my little bag of tricks which all crooked officials are beginning to fear.”

At that moment, a sudden gust whipped along the avenue. It swayed the shoulder-high shrubbery that enclosed the sidewalk café. It brought something swooping from the sidewalk—something which whirled over Clade’s head, then settled down on the table between them.

Fenbeck jumped, then gave an uneasy laugh as he recognized the object as a woman’s hat, a broad-brimmed felt. Clade with a lightning move, sprang to his feet. One look over the top of the hedge, then he uttered an amazed exclamation and as abruptly sat down again. Deliberately he seized his half-filled glass of wine and dumped the contents over the hat, drenching it.

“Why in heaven’s name did you do that?” cried the amazed Fenbeck.

Clade leaned forward, eyes shining eagerly, his voice cautiously low. “What is it, Fenbeck, that a man craves the most when he is freed from jail? I’ll tell you—a drink! Now a woman just sprung from stir, she is different. She prefers to restore her self-esteem with—a new hat!”

“What are you getting at?”

“I’m going to buy a

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