As Hugo Barnes, Cleve could meet Ling Soo, but it was certain that he could learn nothing from the impassive Chinaman.
To question Darley — say tomorrow — would mean a reversion to the character of Cleve Branch. How could that be avoided? A sudden thought came to Cleve.
A paper — an expected symbol — safely hidden — in the bottom drawer of a table — at Joseph Darley’s apartment — where no one would be tonight—
THESE disjointed thoughts burst upon Cleve Branch. They were the answer to his problem!
Darley had evidently received the paper from Ling Soo. It probably referred to something that concerned the Wu-Fan.
Groping for an explanation, Cleve thought that perhaps peace was to be declared between the Wu-Fan and the Tiger Tong.
But what was the use of such wasted speculation? The paper itself would tell the story.
There was one sure way to see it. That was to go to Joseph Darley’s. Cleve was acquainted with the apartment and its location. If he could find that paper, he might learn all.
What if Darley should return and discover him? What of it? In an emergency, Cleve could reveal his dual identity to Darley.
Yes; that was the solution! He would go to Darley’s and find the paper. Go there now. Acting responsively to his thought, Cleve moved sidewise from the curtain and strode cautiously to the door of the anteroom. He found the catch of the door and opened it.
As he had felt certain, the anteroom was empty. Foy had gone, as well as Joseph Darley.
Cleve descended in the elevator and breathed freely when he reached the street. The pageant had gone by now, and Cleve quietly joined the passing throng of pedestrians.
He reflected now on the safety of his position. As Hugo Barnes, he would not be suspected if any Wu-Fan men had seen him coming from the entrance to Ling Soo’s. For Cleve was a member of the Wu-Fan himself.
He could risk the visit to Darley’s — and be sure that in a pinch he could explain all to satisfaction.
In the fashion of Hugo Barnes, Cleve shuffled along the street, and cast a wary eye toward the Mukden Theater as he passed by. Only one factor had been omitted from his calculations until now. That factor was The Shadow.
But tonight, Cleve saw nothing that indicated the presence of the man in black. The Shadow could not be everywhere. Furthermore, Cleve had never seen actual traces of his presence outside of Chinatown. Traveling into the city proper, he felt sure that he would free himself from the realm of The Shadow’s observance.
Past the outskirts of Chinatown, Cleve hailed a passing cab and gave an address near the apartment house where Joseph Darley lived. Reaching his destination, he alighted, paid the driver, and waited until the tail light of the departing cab had faded in the distance.
Here, Cleve felt safe. He smiled the peculiar smile of Hugo Barnes, as he stepped into the shuffling stride.
Hugo Barnes would enter Joseph Darley’s home tonight. There, Hugo Barnes would make a find that would be of interest to Cleve Branch.
And The Shadow would not know!
CHAPTER XII
A SHOT FROM THE DARK
TO enter the apartment house, Cleve Branch took the simplest and most effective method. He walked in the front door.
He knew that an attendant was sometimes on duty. If the man happened to be there, Cleve intended to make a false inquiry, using a fictitious name. But the attendant was not on hand, and Cleve calmly sauntered up the flight of stairs at the side of the quiet lobby.
He used this course because he did not wish to wait for the automatic elevator, which might be on an upper story. The apartment which Darley occupied was on the third floor. Cleve arrived there a minute after he had left the lobby.
The question of forcible entrance was one that proved perplexing for a time. The apartment house, like so many San Francisco buildings, was on a hill, and Darley’s apartment faced the upper side. Entrance by a window would have meant a climb of nearly twenty feet. The door was the better plan — if Cleve could get in this way. But the special lock offered a difficult barrier.
Recalling what he had seen of the apartment on his visits to Darley, Cleve remembered that the place had an unused kitchenette. That would be at the back. Cleve spied the entrance to a fire escape down the hall, and went in that direction. He stepped out on a railed platform.
There he saw a window — the only window at the end of the apartment. He could almost reach it from the fire escape. Climbing over the rail, Cleve reached out and tried the window with one hand. It appeared to be locked, but it rattled loosely.
There was no fear of detection, for this new apartment house was isolated from neighboring buildings. No lights showed from the window above or from the window below.
Cleve jarred the window of the kitchenette. He pushed inward and upward, with his right hand, while his left clung to the rail of the fire-escape platform.
The window yielded suddenly. Only Cleve’s firm grip upon the rail prevented him from falling.
He clambered through the open window and made his way through to the front of the apartment. There, he reached the living room. He turned on a lamp and looked about him.
Cleve had noticed several tables in this room; and now the question arose as to which would be the proper one to search first.
The drawers of one table were unlocked. He rummaged there, but found that they contained few articles and no papers. The second table had locked drawers; this, Cleve decided, must be the one.
He could handle locks after a fashion; but something prompted him to try the third table before he proceeded with the picking.
Here were unlocked drawers, and the first bottom drawer that Cleve opened brought him his reward. The drawer contained two stacks of papers. Lifting them, Cleve discovered others strewn beneath.
DARLEY had been wise, he realized. An unlocked drawer, filled with useless papers, would not command a thorough search by a burglar.
Cleve withheld his haste, for he realized that it would be wise to replace these papers as he found them. So he laid the stacks upon the table, exactly as they had been in the drawer. One by one, he began to examine each of the odd papers.
He stopped at odd moments to listen. There was a tenseness to this work, and Cleve realized that he must proceed with caution for the task might prove to be most important.
Once, fancying that hidden eyes might be watching him, Cleve stared toward the window, but saw nothing except the jet-black pane, because of the reflected light of the lamp.
Again, he listened, wondering if he had heard the door of the apartment open. He laid these qualms to his fancy.
Ordinarily, Cleve was cool and indifferent to danger; but the sinister atmosphere of Chinatown had made him susceptible to sudden suspicions.
He reflected that the job of burglary which he was now performing was by far the simplest and least dangerous task that he had undertaken since his advent in San Francisco. Here, at least, he was safe from the unseen menaces that hovered over Chinatown.
Cleve reached the last paper in the drawer. He unfolded it in expectation. It must be the one he sought. He could see markings through the sheet as he unfolded it. Then, with the paper spread before him, he stared perplexed.
It was, without doubt, the paper that Ling Soo had mentioned. But it did not contain a word of English. It was inscribed with a series of Chinese characters!
What could this message mean?
Darley, Cleve felt sure, had no extensive knowledge of the Chinese language. The only solution was that Ling Soo had given certain information to Darley, and had included this paper as evidence. But to Cleve, the paper was no more enlightening than a laundry ticket!
Cleve hesitated, wondering what to do. He could take the paper with him, but he felt that such a course would be an error. The only man whom he could trust to translate it was the undercover agent, Moy Chen.