The Bat

e day the Bat would slip and falter; then they would have him. But the weeks passed into months and still the Bat flew free, solitary, untamed, and deadly. At 1ast even his own kind turned upon him; the underworld is like the upper in its fear and distrust of genius that flies alone. But when they turned against him, they turned against a spook - a shadow. A cold and bodiless laughter from a pit of darkness answered and mocked at their bungling gestures of hate - and went on, flouting Law and Lawless alike.

Where official trailer and private sleuth had failed, the newspapers might succeed - or so thought the disillusioned young men of the Fourth Estate - the tireless foxes, nose-down on the trail of news - the trackers, who never gave up until that news was run to earth. Star reporter, leg-man, cub, veteran gray in the trade - one and all they tried to pin the Bat like a caught butterfly to the front page of their respective journals - soon or late each gave up, beaten. He was news - bigger news each w