WE CAN ONLY HOPE OUR FEMALE CAPED CRUSADERS CAN SAVE THEIR NECKS!

Bruce and Barbara Say, “I Do”

Flamebird tried to disentangle herself from the firm grasp of the rope, but it was futile. The blood was rushing to both Batwoman and her heads, making it very difficult to see straight, not to mention the fact that they were upside-down. “I think this is the end of our rope,” Flamebird declared, not catching her weak pun.

“We still have a small glimmer of hope,” Batwoman replied. “If you can just reach into your utility belt and remove your Bat-walkie-talkie . . .”

Flamebird eagerly obliged her aunt, and was about to activate the walkie-talkie, when it escaped from her hands! It plummeted ungracefully to the hardwood floor.

“Well, I still have my Bat-knife which I can use to cut the ropes . . .” Batwoman gingerly opened the compartment on her utility belt, but the second she did, half the contents spilled out onto the floor. “Confound gravity!” Batwoman exclaimed. “If we weren’t stuck in this awkward position, my Bat-pills and other necessities wouldn’t be on the floor right now!”

“And we wouldn’t even be able to be tied to the chandelier, because we would be floating around,” Flamebird observed drily. “Did you lose the knife?”

“Fortunately, I did not, but I did waste some valuable time complaining. Look: that one last link is about to snap!”

Meanwhile, in the backyard, Barbara grabbed Bruce’s arm to look at his watch. An hour had past without any word from Batman or his partners! Bruce pulled his arm out of the tight grasp of his supposed intended. When he was sure nobody was paying any attention, he glanced at the time as well. He crossed his legs at the ankles, uncrossed them, and then began drumming his fingers on the table.

Barbara watched his fingers for a short duration until a brilliant plan formed in her clever mind. Sliding her hands under the table, Barbara slipped off her engagement ring and quietly placed it in her blue handbag. Then, in a distraught voice, she exclaimed, “Oh no, my engagement ring is missing!”

The whole assemblage turned to stare at her as if she had told them her pet bird Charlie had fallen into the soufflé and drowned. Chief O’Hara, who had just begun making an interminable speech, glared angrily at Barbara for interrupting.

“When’s the last time you saw it?” Bruce inquired with genuine concern, unwittingly playing into Barbara’s hand.

“I last saw it when I placed it in that expensive jewelry box to see how the whole setting looked. The gold box is divine,” she hastily told the guests who had given her the gift.

Bruce tried to suppress a look of utter relief as he answered, “I suggest we go search for it in the dining room. If you’ll excuse us, ladies and gentlemen, we have to hunt for a priceless family heirloom. Chief O’Hara, you may continue your speech, if you like.”

“But Bruce,” protested Aunt Harriet, “the speech is for you and your fiancée!”

There was no response, for Barbara and Bruce had already entered the house. “My ring isn’t really missing,” Barbara informed Bruce. “I just made that up as an excuse. Do you suppose something has happened to the Terrific Trio and Batwoman and Flamebird?”

“I sincerely hope not,” Bruce replied grimly.

Meanwhile, Batwoman struggled to reach her tied leg. It was nearly impossible, though, for she feared any sudden movement would pull the chandelier down upon her and her partner. “This is the part where we die a noble death,” she warned her niece as the chain made a snapping noise, the gap in the one link growing larger by the second.

Suddenly the door flew open and in stepped Bruce and Barbara. They immediately assessed the situation and pushed the dining room table underneath the chandelier. Now Batwoman and Flamebird’s heads almost reached the mahogany table.

Bruce haphazardly threw a chair on top of the table then alighted upon it. He was now at eye level with the chandelier’s chain. “Barbara, please find a pair of pliers. Hurry!” he requested. Batwoman pulled out a pair of pink Bat-pliers from her utility belt; it was part of the contents that hadn’t spilt.

Bruce heaved a sigh of relief as he snatched the pliers. Straining mightily, he began closing the metal link. Batwoman held out her knife, which Barbara immediately took. The erstwhile bride-to-be began sawing away at Flamebird’s heavy hemp rope.

Five seconds went by – then ten – then fifteen. Perspiration beaded on everybody’s forehead, each wondering what would happen if the chandelier should fall.

“CLANG!” went the link . . . but it wasn’t because the chandelier had given way, but because Bruce had just fixed it. “I’d say, if we had been thirty seconds later, you very likely would have been dead,” he reported gravely.

Flamebird didn’t have time to mull over this piece of news, because her rope was about to snap. Bruce lifted her whole body up so that she was lying across his arms. Once Barbara was certain Bruce had a good enough hold on the teenager, she cut the last bit of rope.

Flamebird allowed the millionaire playboy to lower her to the top of the dining room table. There she lay for several seconds, thinking how narrowly she had once again escaped death. As Bruce and Barbara repeated the procedure for Batwoman, the librarian asked, “Where are Robin and Batman?”

“They were following the tracking device in the Batmobile. Somehow, Frontier Fanny escaped with the wedding gift that held the device,” Batwoman answered. “Thank you so much for rescuing us! How did you know we were in danger?”

“We just had a hunch, that’s all,” Mr. Wayne said meekly.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t catch those crooked cowboys and cowgirls,” apologized Flamebird. “Boy, when I get my hands on them, I’m going to rip them to shreds!”

“Flamebird, that is quite enough talk for now,” Batwoman admonished.

“We’d better return to the party before anyone begins to get suspicious,” Miss Gordon commented.

“We’ll leave you two experienced crimefighters to your work,” Bruce added.

‘If only you three knew my secret identity,’ Barbara and Bruce both thought. The couple went back out onto the lawn to re-assure some very uneasy guests. “I found the priceless Wayne heirloom,” Barbara announced. The guests’ apprehension vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“I hope Robin has better luck than Batwoman and Flamebird,” muttered Bruce under his breath.

Robin swerved unerringly through another sharp turn. He suddenly spotted Frontier Fanny’s horse. The Batmobile came to a screeching halt. White Stallion was nonchalantly chomping on a patch of green grass in a lot that clearly was marked “No Trespassing.” No rider was to be seen anywhere near the hungry horse. ‘So, either the rider dismounted between here and the mansion, or no one had ever been on the stallion in the first place,’ Robin deduced.

Robin hurriedly approached the steed, interrupting the animal’s repast. “Easy fella, I’m not going to hurt you.” He grabbed hold of the bridle with one of his green-gloved hands and led the horse off of the private property. With his other hand, he tried to contact Flamebird via the walkie-talkie. “Robin to Flamebird, Robin to Flamebird, over.” There was no response, save for the overly irritating static.

Suddenly the two-way radio came alive with Flamebird’s exhausted voice. “What’s up, Robin, over?”

“I have one runaway horse here, but no criminals. I’m taking the horse to the Batcave to have it analyzed for clues. Do you have any of the perps in custody, over?”

“No. We were ensnared in a devious Bat-trap until a few minutes ago, when Mr. Wayne and Ms. Gordon came to our rescue. We’ve just taken some Anti-inflammatory Bat-pills for our ankles, over.”

“What on Earth did Calamity Jan do to you, over?”

“It’s a long story; over and out.”

Robin stared at the black box in his hand. A look of bafflement spread across his youthful face. The diabolical plans and traps the Gotham City criminals concocted never ceased to amaze him. He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the walkie-talkie into the passenger seat of the Batmobile. Then, with the remote control in hand, he mounted the stallion like an expert. He held on to the reigns with one hand and controlled the Batmobile with the other. He didn’t have as much control over the horse as he would have if he had been using both hands, but he was able to manage quite effectively.

The Batmobile rolled down the road, no more than a quarter of a mile ahead of horse and rider. The Batdummy, which was still belted in the driver’s seat, billowed in the wind. This ridiculous picture would have produced more than a few chuckles if any bystanders had been in the area.

Soon Robin was in the Batcave once again. He had taken a sample of the stallion’s hair, and had removed the saddle and the bridle. Now he placed the articles in the Bat-analyzer, hoping he would pick up a clue to the location of the villainess’ hideout. To his utter disappointment, the articles all pointed to the Gotham City Central Park Stables. It was likely that just meant the animal had been stolen from there. The Central Park Stables had been Calamity Jan’s headquarters once before, so Robin doubted that the crooked cowgirl and her bandits would hide there again.

Just that instant, Batman slid down his pole. He gazed in befuddlement at the white stallion, who was docilely chomping on the end of Robin’s cape. “Robin, do you realize how unsanitary it is to have a horse in a building with no stables or arenas?”

Robin smiled sheepishly as he replied, “Gosh, Batman, I was just looking for some clues as to where Calamity and her cronies might be.”

“It’s quite all right, old chum; just don’t do it again.” Batman patted his former ward on the back consolingly. The horse whinnied peevishly at having been interrupted from his snack by another strangely dressed human. Batman ignored the complaints of the equine and continued, “I have already devised a plan to capture that cowgirl once and for all. I have yet to discuss the idea with Commissioner and Barbara Gordon or Batwoman and Flamebird.” Batman paused for emphasis before pronouncing, “Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon are going to be married at the earliest opportunity.”

“I know that already. That’s why you had that fake wedding shower.”

“No, you don’t understand what I’m saying. We’re actually going to take part in the marriage ceremony. Barbara will go down the aisle in a white dress and veil, Bruce Wayne will be standing by the preacher, the two will start to exchange vows, and then, I hope, Calamity Jan will make her entrance.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “But, what if the cowgirls and boys don’t show?”

Batman turned absolutely pale as he answered, “Then, I’ll try to get an annulment as quickly and quietly as possible.”

“Holy Matrimony!” Robin smacked his forehead at the prospect of his former guardian marrying Barbara Gordon.

Barbara opened her mouth to speak, but not a sound came out. She turned completely white, then tried again. “I will not go through with this harebrained scheme!”

Batman, Robin, James Gordon, and Chief O’Hara’s mouths turned agape at this petulant behavior from the usually perky Barbara. “I could be stuck married to a man I don’t love!” she added.

“That’s why they created annulment and divorce,” Robin replied. Everyone turned to glare at him. “Or, better yet, get a fake minister.”

“That’s a very logical solution,” mused Batman. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of that before.

Barbara couldn’t tell the four men that the reason she was so reluctant to take part in the ruse was because she wanted to help capture Calamity Jan herself. She didn’t want to be the helpless Miss Barbara Gordon in a frilly white dress! She wanted to take up her role as the courageous, athletic Batgirl, who could kick everyone’s butt, even Batman’s if given the chance! “You’re asking me to commit social suicide, to agree to a fate worse than death!” she persisted.

“Now, I wouldn’t go that far,” began Batman, annoyed at this obvious insult against his other identity. “I’m sure Mr. Wayne will be a perfect gentleman and everything would be satisfactorily explained in the end.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Barbara retorted.

Batman was about to retaliate when Commissioner Gordon stepped into the conversation. “Barbara, you’re the one who insisted on becoming involved in this scheme in the first place . . .” Barbara’s features softened, “. . . however, you don’t have to continue, if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I’ll do it, but I won’t like it,” she begrudgingly conceded.

“If it makes you feel any better, Bruce Wayne doesn’t want to go through with this, either,” Batman offered.

“Gosh, yes; he doesn’t want to get married, even if it is to a gorgeous woman like you,” Robin added tactfully.

“What an apt comment, Boy Wonder,” the Chief piped up.

“You may proceed with the plan, Batman,” Barbara sighed. Even with all her protestations, it appeared Batgirl was not going to be present at the ceremony.

In a ghost town, fifty miles out of Gotham City, Calamity Jan and Frontier Fanny were seeking shelter from the prying police. “I told you we shouldn’t have tried to steal those gifts!” bemoaned Fanny.

“Hush up, Mama; I’m tryin’ ta think!” Calamity Jan paced back and forth across the rickety floor of a long-closed bar.

Howdy and Pardner entered the tavern with a little transistor radio. “Here’s that radio you asked for, Ms. Jan,” said Howdy.

“Finally. Now I can find out what’s happenin’ in the fair city of Gotham.” Jan turned the dials until she came to a local news report.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Today’s top story in Gotham City may come as something of a shock to most of you. It appears multimillionaire Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon are going to be married this Saturday at three p.m.. After an incredibly short engagement, Gotham City’s most eligible bachelor will finally be saying, ‘I do.’ The wedding will take place at stately Wayne Manor, where all their shower and wedding gifts will be on display. Guests will include the wealthy Mrs. Verena von Vandervan, her son and his fiancée, and several other rich friends of the groom. Plenty of expensive jewelry is being polished and silk gowns being sewn for this occasion. By the way, father of the bride is our very own Police Commissioner, James Gordon!

“My, I never expected that millionaire playboy to settle down . . . and with a librarian no less! There are plenty more details to come, but now, the weather report: Mostly cloudy today with a high chance of precipitation . . .”

Jan stood absolutely still, stupefied by the announcement. This couple seemed not to have been in league with Batman after all. The Caped Crusaders must have just gotten wind of Frontier Fan’s Wedding Plans and immediately became suspicious since it was an ex-criminal’s business. If this were true, than perhaps Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon would not have the annoying super-heroes and heroines at their wedding. (The deaths or injuries of Batwoman and Flamebird should have been the lead news story. Either the police were covering them up, or, somehow, they had escaped.) Anyway, maybe she could return to the scene of the crime to steal all the gifts as she had originally planned!

Calamity expressed her ideas to her dubious mother. “I still reckon it’s a trap,” Fanny remarked bluntly. “Besides, Commissioner Gordon is sure to be there, with who knows how many police. So, how do we deal with them?”

“They were there the first time and didn’t cause us no trouble. Gordon is goin’ to be takin’ part in the ceremony, and Chief O’Hara and any other bluecoats will be too busy havin’ a good time to notice anythin’ suspicious.” Calamity confronted her two burly cohorts. “Howdy, Pardner, we are fixin’ to rob the guests at the Wayne weddin’. Get it? Got it? GOOD!” Jan stared spitefully at her mother, knowing how irritated Fan would be that she had used Shame’s favorite saying.

In the next six days, invitations were sent out, a wedding gown was created, and decorations were put up in Wayne Manor. Since most of the guests were idle rich men with nothing to do, only a few could not make it. Two of the people that were part of the minority were Katherine and Betty Kane. They didn’t even receive an invitation since they were supposedly still in Maui. They were staying out of the picture until the big day, when they would make their appearance as Batwoman and Flamebird.

Saturday morning – and almost all of Gotham City was talking about one thing: the Wayne and Gordon wedding.

Upstairs in one of the massive bedrooms of Wayne Manor, Barbara Gordon was just finishing applying makeup to her beautiful face. After setting her bridal veil on her brunette hair, she stepped back to survey her appearance in a full-length mirror. She was extremely pleased at what she saw. A pearly white gown of the finest satin adorned her shapely body. The material hugged her skin, leaving barely any room to breath, once properly buttoned in the back. Her dress had short, off the shoulder sleeves that added a sexy touch to the whole apparel. The gown trailed three feet behind her, as did her lace veil. She wore white shoes with two-inch stiletto heels, which added height to her petite figure. If Bruce didn’t appreciate her after seeing Barbara in this gown, nothing could satisfy the millionaire playboy.

“You are simply breathtaking, Barbara,” sighed a rather plain woman. She was attired in an exquisite, lavender dress, designed especially for her, the Maid of Honor.

“Thank you, Myrtle. That gown does wonders for you, too.” Barbara gave her most chipper smile to her fellow librarian friend.

The bridesmaids tittered joyfully amongst themselves as they made last minute preparations to their hair and gowns. They squealed excitedly when there came a loud knock on the door.

As she strode to the door, Barbara was filled with apprehension. This was probably her father, ready to escort her down the aisle! She took a deep breath and pried open the oak door.

Instead of her father, Bruce Wayne beamed down at her. “Bruce, you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” Barbara chided. She had to keep up with the charade so her bridal party wouldn’t suspect.

“I’m extremely sorry, but there seems to be a problem with the minister.” Bruce nervously straightened his black bow-tie.

Barbara absentmindedly smoothed down his tuxedo as she asked, “What’s the matter?”

“I’d rather not say in front of certain personages.” Bruce nodded at the assembly of youthful, giddy girls behind her. Barbara asked no more, but instead followed Bruce out into the hall.

Soon they reached another giant room that appeared to be being used as an office of some sort. Two preachers stood side by side, conversing over trivial matters with Harriet Cooper.

“Why are there two pastors?” Barbara hissed.

“Mrs. Cooper thought she was doing us a favor by inviting her reverend to perform the ceremony. Naturally, she didn’t realize that I had hired a professional actor to play the part.”

“Well, ask the real minister to please quietly leave.”

“I would, but Mrs. Cooper recently joined a new church, and I’ve never seen her pastor before. I also have never met the actor face-to-face.” Bruce folded his hands agitatedly before addressing Dick Grayson’s Aunt Harriet, “Mrs. Cooper, which one of these fine, respectable men is your minister?”

“Why, the tall, good-looking one, of course.” Harriet seemed to practically bubble over with joy at the sight of her own parson.

Barbara scrutinized the two men warily, and to her dismay, discovered that they were both tall and good-looking. “Would the real minister please step forward?”

Both of the men complied with Miss Gordon’s request. “I think our actor friend is taking his part too seriously,” Barbara murmured to Bruce.

“Is there something wrong?” one of the reverends asked.

Bruce was about to reply when the door burst opened. Dick Grayson, looking like the perfect gentlemen in his tux, cried, “Bruce, it’s time to start the wedding!”

Barbara and Bruce exchanged a look that no one could comprehend. Almost at the same instant they declared, “The parson on the left side is coming with us.” Aunt Harriet made no protest at this comment, so the two changed their minds and then said the pastor on the right was to perform the ceremony. Again, Aunt Harriet was as obliging as could be imagined.

Dick had a vague idea of what was going on, so he ushered the reverend on the right down the stairs and into the living room where the wedding was to be performed. Once he had the minister set up in the living room, he returned to Bruce and Barbara. “I’ll just escort Aunt Harriet down to her seat and then I’ll see this preacher to the door.”

“Thank you, Dick,” Barbara said.

“Be back inside the living room in time for the ‘nuptials,’” warned Bruce with a smile, not meaning a word. “Just because Alfred is the Best Man and you’re only an usher doesn’t mean you can get out of attending our wedding.” Alfred had been appointed Best Man so that Dick could sneak away to make his transformation into Robin without being as conspicuous. Dick promised he would return in time, though they both knew he wouldn’t.

“I’m going to take my place,” Bruce told Barbara. “By the way, you look lovely.”

Barbara blushed despite her desperate attempt not to react. “And you look very handsome in that tuxedo.” She grinned as the millionaire made his way to the living room.

Suddenly James Gordon entered the office, a look of complete trepidation spread across his aging face. “Well, I guess we had better start the wedding. The guests are getting impatient. I certainly hope this ploy works! I would hate to see my daughter married to Bruce Wayne.”

“But, Daddy, I thought you wanted me to get married,” Barbara teased.

“I do want you to marry, but to a man you really love. I know I’ve always pushed you towards Bruce, but obviously my prodding has done no good.” Commissioner Gordon heaved a despondent sigh that would have made the gruffest of men sympathetic. He kissed both of his daughter’s high cheeks, then escorted her down the stairs.

The pianist of the Gotham City Symphony Orchestra began playing the old standard, Here Comes the Bride, on the Wayne’s grand piano. Commissioner Gordon glanced at the cluster of people sitting on either side of the room. He saw Bruce and the preacher standing at the end of the aisle that had been created. Barbara scanned the lovely flowers that cluttered every unoccupied space in the room. Abruptly, she felt herself being swept down the aisle toward what metaphorically could very well be her doom! She really didn’t know if that pastor was real or the fake!

As she joined Bruce at the fireplace, which was substituting as their altar, Barbara glanced back toward the door. There was no sign of Calamity Jan or Batman. As she turned back to the preacher, Dick stepped out and silently closed the living room’s giant doors behind him.

Barbara let the parson’s words skim over her mind, concentrating on more pressing matters. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the Holy bonds of matrimony . . .”

Bruce gulped nervously several times and tried to concentrate on the reverend’s dialogue. He kept wondering if Batwoman and Flamebird had arrived.

Mr. Wayne needn’t have worried, for Batwoman and Flamebird had just crept into the stately mansion. Robin immediately met them and briefly explained that the criminals had not shown themselves. He then added, “We’ll wait in the dining room for those no good cowgirls and cowboys!”

Flamebird cringed at the memory of her near-death experience in the appointed room, but she remained silent. The three crimefighters sneaked into the dining room, which held the gifts from the shower and the wrapped wedding presents. They listened impatiently for any sound of the criminals’ arrival, but all they heard was the noise of the cherry wood clock ticking.

Back in the living room, Bruce began to panic. Commissioner Gordon had just given his daughter away, and the pastor was asking Bruce if he wanted to marry Barbara! Bruce cleared his throat as the minister finished, “ . . .as long as you both shall live?”

As he stood there for what seemed an eternity, Bruce felt every eye penetrating his very being. “Could you repeat the question?” he asked, obviously stalling for time.

After he repeated the inquiry, the minister stared expectantly at the man in front of him. “Do you, Mr. Wayne?” he prodded.

Bruce was a reputable man who could never stand to see his friends hurt or disgraced. If he refused to answer or backed out now, he would cause quite a scandal. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to clearly proclaim, “I do!”

Barbara resisted the impulse to kick Bruce’s shins with her sharp stiletto heel. Didn’t he realize that this clergyman might be the real one? Their fate was now in her hands. Barbara would just have to remain silent until somebody called off the wedding or Calamity Jan made her entrance.

The reverend had just finished reading the question to Miss Gordon and was staring solemnly at the young woman. “Do you also need me to repeat the question?” he asked gently.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Barbara felt her face turn crimson under her veil. The perspiration began to trickle down her neck and face, temporarily blinding her. She blinked several times until she could again see clearly.

Standing nearby was the Commissioner, who was dabbing his face with a handkerchief. Chief O’Hara leaned on one foot and then the other. For one long moment, there was an utter, discomfiting silence.

Just when Barbara thought she was going to cave in under the pressure, Frontier Fanny burst through the door. “I’m sorry I’m late, but there was awful traffic,” she politely apologized. Fan smiled congenially at the perplexed crowd, then snarled.

The polite, affable, Fanny had miraculously transformed into a harsh, demanding criminal in a heartbeat. “All right, everyone just take it nice an’ easy and no one will get hurt.” Frontier Fanny’s implied threat came through the red bandana she had just placed over her mouth.

At that moment, Calamity Jan burst through the door, clutching four gigantic sacks. She likewise was sporting a bandana and pointing a gun haphazardly at the distraught crowd. “If any of you gals are wearin’ fancy jewelry, I’d be mighty pleased if you’d remove them.” She turned to address Mr. Wayne. “Where are the weddin’ presents?”

“In the dining room, where you were before, Miss Jan,” Bruce serenely replied. He was less agitated at the robbery than he was at the prospect of getting married!

Jan shoved her two goons towards the dining room. “Howdy, Pardner, gather them thar gifts into these here sacks.” The doors were thrust open. Inside were three crime fighters, leisurely standing on the dining room table. The presents had been moved onto the polished floor in one of the corners for protection. “Batwoman, Flamebird, you ain’t dead!”

“That’s right, and we’re about to bring your matrimonial coup to an end!” shouted Robin in his usual upbraiding manner.

“Howdy, Pardner, wrangle up these ornery cows!” Calamity ordered her brainless buffoons.

Grabbing onto the chandelier, Flamebird swung down on Calamity Jan, knocking her out.

Robin jumped from the table onto the back of Pardner. Pardner began spinning around like a whirling dervish, trying to dislodge his opponent. Batwoman gave the distracted Pardner a kick in the chin as he swung past.

Before Pardner could recover from Batwoman’s onslaught, Robin hopped off, turned and punched him squarely in the nose.

The heavyset cowboy tumble to the floor, defeated. Flamebird produced a Bat-rope from her utility belt and used it to bind Jan’s arms and legs together. Jan revived just in time to see Flamebird smirking wildly at her. “It’s time you got a taste of your own medicine! See how you like having your leg tied up!” The perky teen skipped over to her aunt and Robin in order to assist them.

The brawny cowboy Howdy had caught Robin off-guard just as the Titan had knocked out Pardner. Robin’s left cheek was first battered by his enemy, followed by his right. Robin kept backing up until he was aligned with Batwoman and Flamebird.

Standing side by side, the trio crossed their arms and placed them out in front of them. Now a human battering ram, they charged Howdy. As soon as their arms made contact, he was sent sprawling across the room.

Out in the hall, Frontier Fanny was trying to make her escape. As she dashed across the floor, her feet tripped over some soft material. Having lost her balance, it was only a short time before she landed in a heap on the floor. She glanced over her shoulder to see what had tripped her. Miss Gordon’s wedding veil was spread as taunt as possible across the floor.

Barbara smiled superiorly at her nemesis. Even though she hadn’t been able to come as Batgirl, she had gotten a measure of revenge on the criminal cowgirl. “Take her away, Chief O’Hara,” she ordered the Irish policeman.

O’Hara had to admit that at times like this, Barbara reminded him of Batgirl. He happily placed handcuffs on the rueful Frontier Fanny. Just as he finished, Robin, Batwoman and Flamebird entered with their apprehended criminals.

“Here are more crooked cowpokes for you to hustle off to the state penitentiary,” declared Batwoman.

The Chief soon left with the captured villains. Batwoman and Flamebird decided to take their leave as well. Barbara glanced around and, for the first time, realized that Batman was nowhere in sight. She addressed Robin saying, “Where’s Batman?”

Robin looked down at his hands before replying. “He knew that we could take care of this without him, so he stayed in the Batcave to repair the Bat-computer.”

Barbara was more than a little hurt to discover that Batman had not even come to protect her. She admitted to herself that she was infatuated with the Dark Knight. It was one of the reasons she had become Batgirl in the first place, not to mention the fact that she was athletically and mentally able to perform as a crimefighter.

Robin disappeared into the mass of people that were oozing out of the living room. Everyone was chattering about the holdup that had disrupted the wedding. Dick Grayson soon stepped out of the congested front hall, trying to find Bruce.

Bruce was on the first step of the staircase, ready to make a short announcement. “Ladies and gentleman, I apologize for that unexpected interruption. Because of this attempted robbery, my bride-to-be and I have decided to postpone the wedding until further notice, however, that doesn’t mean that we should let all that good reception food got to waste. So if you could all go to your vehicles and head to City Hall, we will have a party that, I assure you, will be unforgettable.”

The mass of guests agreeably stepped outside. As soon as the last of them had driven away, Bruce approached Barbara. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get married today,” he joked.

“Oh, maybe another time, Bruce.” Barbara smiled beguilingly at the playboy.

“Listen, I know you were put through a lot of embarrassment by pretending to be engaged to me and . . . kissing me. I was wondering, perhaps you would like to go on a date to make up for it?”

“Only if you promise not to drive me around in your limo and watch TV the whole time.” Barbara couldn’t help but remind Bruce of their first “date.”

Bruce’s face turned redder than Batgirl’s hair. “Oh, I was quite rude that night. I do so hope you forgive me.”

“I’ve forgotten all about it – practically.” Barbara laughed as she added, “I would love to go out with you some time.”

“Why don’t we discuss this over dinner?” Bruce suggested. He stared deeply into Barbara’s blue eyes, almost having a hypnotic effect on the brunette beauty. Their eyes remained interlocked for several seconds . . . until the Commissioner approached.

“Well, I’m glad Batman’s scheme worked.” James Gordon looked at his daughter, at Bruce, and back at Barbara. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nothing had even begun, so, no,” Barbara replied breezily. She walked toward her car, her mind awhirl with thoughts of Batman, the dynamic, intelligent and courageous hero, and Bruce, the rich, handsome and charming playboy.

Three days later, a very good-humored Aunt Harriet tuned into her favorite radio show. “Now for the latest news update,” droned the DJ. “It appears that Mr. Bruce Wayne and Miss Barbara Gordon have called off their engagement! Here is what Mr. Wayne had to say:”

An actuality began to play. “We came to realize that the whole thing was just too sudden. We need more time together to see if we’re truly compatible. Right now, we really have no clue.”

The disc jockey’s voice returned. “This whole affair: from the engagement; to the two attempted robberies by the criminal cowgirl Calamity Jan and her capture by Robin, Batwoman and Flamebird; to the breakup, has come as quite a shock to even hard-to-surprise Gotham City. I guess some fairy tales are just too good to be true . . .”

“I have never in all my days heard such awful news!” exclaimed Mrs. Cooper, growing quite peeved. She looked about the living room in search of her nephew’s former guardian.

Unfortunately, Bruce chose this inopportune time to enter the living area. “I’m going to be out late this evening, Aunt Harriet, so please don’t wait up for me.” He tenderly kissed her on the forehead.

“Bruce, how could you break off your engagement to that fine young woman?” she demanded.

Bruce was taken aback by this comment, but quickly recovered. “Well, you’ve obviously heard the news. The reasons I listed were fairly accurate.”

“I had such dreams of you settling down and raising a family,” the elderly woman sighed.

“If it will make you feel any better, I am going out to dinner with Miss Gordon this evening.”

Dick entered at this moment and heard Bruce’s disclosure. “Where are you two going?”

“We’ve decided on a formal restaurant, then we’re going to a play.” Bruce smiled at the curiosity of his former ward.

Alfred came into the room just in time to hear his employer’s response. “That reminds me, Master Bruce, you asked me to select a show for you.” He reached into his coat pocket and removed two tickets. “I picked them up this afternoon when I went into the city on some errands.”

Bruce held out his hand for the tickets and thanked his butler for his efficiency. Upon looking at the tickets, he turned slightly pale.

“So, what are you going to see?” Dick eagerly asked.

Bruce hesitated, giving Alfred a dirty look.

“Yes, Bruce,” Aunt Harriet insisted. “Tell us.”

Bruce grimaced as he answered, “Mr. Pennyworth has thoughtfully procured two tickets to Oklahoma!”

“I’m sure watching all those cowboys and gals will be most entertaining,” Dick remarked dryly. He noticed how green Bruce was turning at the prospect of seeing more cowgirls like Calamity Jan. “Just remember Bruce: ‘the farmer and the cowman should be friends,’” he sang, quoting a song from the play, “‘Oh, the farmer and the cowman should be friends! One man likes to push a plow; the other likes to chase a cow. But that’s no reason why they can’t be friends!’”

Bruce fled the mansion before Dick could finish his massacred rendition of the show tune.

As Alfred was driving him in the Wayne limo, Bruce became immersed in his own thoughts. Alfred became concerned.

“I hope my play selection didn’t really upset you, sir. I’m sure I could come up with an alternative.”

“No, that’s not it, Alfred,” Mr. Wayne quickly replied. “Oklahoma! will be just fine. It’s just that . . .”

Bruce’s voice trailed off. Alfred prompted, “Yes?”

“I was just wondering why Batgirl never showed up at the wedding. She certainly would have heard about it from some source, and being the bright woman that she is, I’m certain she would have realized something was amiss. But she never came to help Robin, Batwoman and Flamebird. I hope she’s alright.”

There was an awkward silence. Alfred hated having a secret he couldn’t share with the man who was more like a son to him than an employer – the fact that Barbara Gordon was Batgirl.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine, sir. I have no doubt you’ll be seeing her again quite soon.”

“Well, I just hope she realizes how much Batman admires her and her crimefighting ability.” Bruce sighed before continuing. “She will always hold a special place in my heart, a place that neither Batwoman nor Flamebird could ever fill, because she was the first female super-heroine to assist Robin and me.”

“I understand, sir,” responded the faithful butler. “May I be so bold as to suggest that you might want to tell her that some day, before it’s too late?”

“Perhaps, Alfred, perhaps . . .” the two drove on in silence.

Barbara appeared seconds after they pulling up outside her apartment building. Alfred stepped out of the car to open the door for Barbara. Barbara smiled briefly at the polite British butler before leaning into the car. “Excuse us for a moment, Bruce. I need Alfred’s help with something.” She then shut the car door.

Barbara pulled the butler away from the car, completely confusing Alfred. “Alfred, I wonder why Batman didn’t come to the wedding. Robin said he had to fix the Bat-computer, but isn’t my safety, as well as Bruce’s and the safety of all the others, more important?”

“Maybe Batman thought Robin, Batwoman, Flamebird and Batgirl could handle Calamity Jan without him?” Alfred prodded.

“Yes, but it’s still kind of insulting. I guess I wouldn’t feel so badly if I had been able to fight with the others. I just hope Batman knows how much Batgirl appreciates him and his talents.”

Alfred tried to suppress a smile, but failed. “I can say with absolute certainty that wherever Batman is, he is thinking almost exactly the same thing.”

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