“All right, Dunny,” commented Joe. “Keep finding out whatever else you can. It’s time for me to leave.” Hawkeye shrank into the alleyway, as the broad-shouldered figure of the detective came in view.
Cardona started up the street, keeping close to the shelter of the blackened elevated. Hawkeye had heard all that was to be said. He edged through the alley.
Tensely, the little man repressed a chuckle as he continued on his course. Reaching the end of the alleyway, Hawkeye picked a new thoroughfare and headed deeper into darkened districts. All the while, he was thinking of the conversation that he had heard.
What Dunny had told Cardona concerning The Shadow was, as yet, no more than rumor. That was the way with affairs that concerned The Shadow. A master fighter, his identity unknown, The Shadow was a mystery to the underworld itself. Criminals dreaded his might; they shuddered when his name was mentioned. Rumors were ever rife concerning The Shadow.
This rumor, like others, failed to gain full credence; but it happened — so Hawkeye knew — to be a correct one. For Hawkeye, himself, was a member of the small but chosen crew that The Shadow was at present using to confuse the underworld and bring disaster to the aims of “Rook” Hollister.
After a period of enforced inactivity, men of crime had banded in hope of reviving obliterated rackets.
Strong mobleaders had sought a suitable overlord. One after another, the czars whom they had chosen had failed. Now Rook Hollister was attempting to become the big shot — the overlord of all crime.
Though Hawkeye prided himself on his knowledge of the underworld and its ways, he knew that his own ability at spotting crime movements was trivial compared with that of The Shadow. Somehow, somewhere, The Shadow was managing to spot the coming activities of Rook and his lieutenants. So far, The Shadow had balked all of Rook’s best schemes.
More than that, The Shadow had found out something that Dunny, the stool pigeon, had done no more than suspect. The grapevine inkled that Rook’s lieutenants were chafing under the big shot’s regime. The Shadow, however, had learned that they were actually ready to end it.
Hawkeye, tonight, was on his way to do spy duty for The Shadow. His mysterious chief had learned of a most secluded rendezvous wherein lieutenants of crime were to hold secret cabal. The Shadow had ordered Hawkeye to look in on that meeting and had also discovered a way whereby the spying could be done with ease.
How The Shadow had managed this was a total mystery to Hawkeye, and the little agent was eager to reach his destination.
Quickening his footsteps, Hawkeye turned into a narrow, curving street that extended away from an elevated structure. He continued on through blackness; then as the street took a final angle, he slowed his pace.
Half a minute later Hawkeye reached a corner from which he could see a lurid, misty glow that pierced the drizzle.
HAWKEYE had reached the fringe of Chinatown. Thirty yards down this street, in the direction of the brilliance, were the quaint signs of Oriental shops that marked the beginning of the Chinese business district.
Peering craftily as he moved in that direction, Hawkeye noted one placard that bore a silver dragon. He edged to the brick front of a building and stopped just before he reached the shop.
A secluded doorway was on the right. Hawkeye slipped into it and tried the barrier. It opened; The Shadow’s agent stepped into a passage and closed the door behind him. The place was deserted; and Hawkeye found another door at the end of the passage. Looking about in the dim light of a single incandescent, Hawkeye made sure that no one was present, watching.
He pressed the lower hinge of the door. It jogged upward. He did the same with the other hinge. Then he tried the knob. The door opened; Hawkeye found a dim stone stairway and pulled the door shut behind him. He heard clicks as the hinges automatically relocked.
Descending the stairway, Hawkeye found a short passage that extended for a dozen yards. A single light guided him to the end, where he reached a narrow spiral stairway that seemed to spread upward like the leaves of a fan. These steps were blackened and Hawkeye had not taken a dozen upward before he was in complete gloom. The spiral shape of the stairway cut off the light from below.
Hawkeye was moving with the utmost caution, for this was to be his journey’s end. He groped along the wall feeling his way through the darkness until he discerned thin, slitted lines of light.
Hands extended, Hawkeye reached the topmost step and stopped against a solid wall. He peered eagerly through two slits. He became tense at the sight before him.
Hawkeye was looking down into an oddly paneled room wherein bizarre hangings adorned the walls.
The chamber was square and formed a perfect Oriental setting with its curious taborets that served as chairs and the carved teakwood table that occupied the center of the room.
A group was assembled in this rendezvous. But the members of the gathering were not Celestials.
Hawkeye saw hardened faces that he recognized. The Shadow’s agent was looking in on the meeting of Rook Hollister’s lieutenants.
CHAPTER II. THE SECOND TRAIL
THERE were half a dozen men in the group which Hawkeye surveyed. Racketeers and mobleaders, The Shadow’s agent knew the identity of every man present. Certain ones, however, impressed Hawkeye as being more important; yet all represented discontented elements in Rook Hollister’s wavering underworld empire.
“Blitz” Schumbert was present. Staring through the slitted loopholes, Hawkeye viewed the rogue side-face and recognized Blitz’s pug-nosed, sharp-jawed profile. Hawkeye had expected to find Blitz at this meeting. Blitz’s budding laundry racket had been the latest to suffer by Rook Hollister’s inability to back it up.
Opposite Blitz was a chunky square-faced rowdy whose face was expressionless but whose eyes were shifting constantly. Hawkeye knew this fellow as a toughened mobleader who commanded a picked corps of gorillas. His name was “Ping” Gradley; he and his mob had long been recognized as strongarm workers for Rook Hollister.
Directly facing Hawkeye was Louie Caparani, a wise-faced, dark-complexioned individual who was reputed to be linked with big-time gamblers. The other three members of the group were crooks whom Hawkeye regarded as of lesser importance.
Evidently the group expected arrivals. No business was under discussion; the six were joking while they waited. This was pleasing to Hawkeye because of a very definite reason; one that had considerable bearing on his mission.
Hawkeye had been tipped to this meeting through a telephone call from Burbank, The Shadow’s contact agent, who forwarded all instructions to active workers. Briefly, Burbank had informed Hawkeye that The Shadow had learned of a rendezvous in the house of a Chinese named Koy Dow, which could be reached through the Chinese shop known as the “Silver Dragon.” The Shadow, acquainted with many of the secrets of the strange Chinese district, also knew that a secret passage existed in back of the meeting room. This was the route which Hawkeye had been instructed to follow; it was a varied course that had brought the little spotter to his present lookout.
Obviously, The Shadow had some business afoot that prevented him from taking this post which Hawkeye now occupied. The Shadow had delegated the duty to his agent, confident that the secret observation post would not be in use. It was Hawkeye’s job to watch what went on at the meeting, and the agent had also been delegated to a further task.
He was to keep a special eye upon a mobleader named “Trip” Burley, whom, Burbank had assured, would be at the meeting. Trip Burley was the only crook whom Burbank had named.