A disinterested observer could have seen very soon why the Bat had abandoned the window as a means of egress.
Almost before the mantel had swung to behind the archcriminal, the top of a tall pruning ladder had appeared at the window and by its quivering showed that someone was climbing up, rung by rung.
Unsuspiciously enough he came on, pausing at the top to flash a light into the room, and then cautiously swinging a leg over the sill.

It was the Doctor.

He gave a low whistle but there was no reply, save that, had he seen it, the mantel swung out an inch or two.

Perhaps he was never so near death as at that moment but that instant of irresolution on his part saved him, for by coming into the room he had taken himself out of range.
Even then he was very close to destruction, for after a brief pause and a second rather puzzled survey of the room, he started toward the mantel itself.

Only the rattle of the doorknob stopped him, and a call from outside.
"Dale!" called Bailey's voice from the corridor.