MARK Eldreth extended his hand. David Kelroy received it. Mark’s clasp was flabby; but it seemed full-hearted. Kelroy had not expected a firm grip from so lethargic a person; the mere handshake encouraged him.
“I must talk to you,” he told Mark, in a confidential tone. “Strange circumstances involved the death of Ku Luan. I want you to know about them.”
A troubled look displayed itself on Mark’s roundish face. Kelroy hastened to reassure the man.
“I alone am involved,” he explained, “but my position is not a pleasant one. The sooner that I talk with you, the better.”
“Are legal matters involved?” queried Mark, anxiously.
“In a sense, they are,” replied Kelroy. “If we could talk together, for fifteen minutes”
“Impossible, this evening,” interrupted Mark, with a worried shake of his head. “I have guests and must be with them. Moreover, this apparently concerns my grandfather; I am not the only one with whom it should be discussed.”
“Your cousin Colin—”
“No, no; Colin is a trifler. My attorney, Weldon Dryer, is the person with whom we should consult. You must communicate with him.”
“Where shall I find Mr. Dryer?”
“Call him at his office, in the morning. He lives in Berkeley; it is too late to reach him tonight.”
“And his office is—”
“In the Challis Building. On the twentieth floor. Weldon Dryer. He is listed in the telephone book.”
The music had ended in the next room. Applause was sounding from the clapping hands of a dozen guests. Mark Eldreth again shook hands with David Kelroy. As the visitor turned toward the front door, the servant came from across the hall to usher Kelroy out.
On the porch, Kelroy turned about to look for Mark again. He wanted to explain his predicament regarding registration at a hotel. But Mark was gone, hurrying back to the music room. Kelroy shrugged his shoulders and descended the steps. The servant closed the door.
Standing beneath the light of a street lamp, Kelroy considered two plans: one, to call Mark by telephone and ask about hotels; the other, to go directly to a hotel and register under an assumed name. That, Kelroy decided, would serve to throw enemies off his track between now and tomorrow.
The whine of a motor in second gear caused Kelroy to turn about, startled. A swanky coupe was creeping down the steep hill, its driver wisely keeping the car in gear. Brakes brought the coupe to a sudden stop. A grinning face peered from the opened window and surveyed David Kelroy.
“Well, well,” remarked the driver of the car, his voice a sarcastic tone. “Trying to crash the gate? Or did they hand you the bum’s rush?”
KELROY glared angrily, his fists half clenched. For a moment he had feared that this was some enemy hunting for him; then his survey of the car and its driver had caused him to drop that opinion.
“Don’t be offended,” chuckled the man in the car. Kelroy could see him more plainly and noted that his grin was not unfriendly. “I was just looking you over. I noticed that you were not wearing evening clothes. My cousin Mark is particular about his company.”
“Your — your cousin?” queried Kelroy. “Is Mark Eldreth your cousin?”
“Sorry to say he is.”
“Then you are Colin Eldreth?”
“In person.”
Kelroy stepped to the side of the car and reached out to shake hands. He introduced himself.
“My name is David Kelroy,” he explained. “I wanted to talk to your cousin, or to you. I came here first; but Mark had guests and couldn’t talk to me long. I had important matters to discuss with him—”
“And failed to sell him the idea?” laughed Colin, as he gripped Kelroy’s hand. “That’s fine. Climb aboard and ride with me. I’ll talk. Come on; we’ll ride over to my apartment.”
David Kelroy accepted the invitation. Boarding the coupe he dropped gratefully into the cushioned seat.
Kelroy felt truly at ease as they rode along. He could picture Colin’s apartment as the very place of seclusion that he needed. But his mind would have enjoyed less comfort, had he been able to foresee the dangers that his chance meeting with Colin Eldreth were destined to produce.
Before many days, David Kelroy would be looking back to his forgotten regret, again chiding himself that he had not remained after the battle to make the acquaintance of that black-cloaked rescuer who had saved him from death in Ku Luan’s storeroom.
For already, events were shaping to new climaxes in which David Kelroy again would greatly need the protection of The Shadow.
CHAPTER VIII. KELROY TAKES ADVICE
IT was morning. Fog had cleared from San Francisco. David Kelroy, awakening, was puzzled as he stared about the sunlighted bedroom. Recollection was slow to dawn within his mind. When it came at last, Kelroy sidled out of bed and donned the slippers and dressing gown that he found upon a chair.
He was in Colin Eldreth’s apartment. He had stayed here overnight at his new friend’s suggestion. He had slept late, too, for a clock on the bureau showed half past ten.
Kelroy opened the door and stepped out into a living room. He found Colin Eldreth, fully dressed, reading the morning newspaper.
“Hello, old man,” greeted Colin, with a wave of his hand. “Park yourself over there in the dinette. You’ll find fruit and cereal. While you’re eating them, I’ll fix some eggs and coffee. How long do you want the eggs boiled?”
“Three minutes,” replied Kelroy. “What’s in the newspaper?”
“Nothing about you,” returned Colin, chuckling as he went toward a little kitchenette. “Just some junk about a brawl in Chinatown. Tough guys trying to crack Ku Luan’s storehouse.”
“Any arrests?”
“None of importance. The police have gained some leads, however.”
“Regarding the thugs who invaded the storeroom?”
“Yes. They are looking for a yegg named Zack Ruggey. They think he was behind it.”
COLIN gave a sharp glance over his shoulder as he made this mention of Zack Ruggey’s name. Kelroy was busy with his dish of cereal. The name of Ruggey apparently did not register with him. A slight smile showed on Colin’s lips as he turned to watch the boiling eggs.
The coffee and eggs ready, Colin brought them to the dinette table. Seating himself opposite Kelroy, he faced his guest in frank and friendly fashion. Evidently there was something that Colin wished to discuss; and he came directly to the point.
“You were somewhat incoherent last night,” Colin told Kelroy. “It didn’t surprise me, old man, for the story that you told me was tough enough to have given anyone the jitters. That’s why I insisted that you turn in and get some sleep. Now that you are yourself again, I would like to go over some of the details.”
Kelroy nodded. Colin proceeded.
“You received a letter from Ku Luan,” he said. “With it was a token. You showed the latter when you arrived at Ku Luan’s house.”
“Yes. I gave it to Tsing Chan.”
“Did Tsing Chan recognize your name?”
“Yes. He stated that I was expected.”
“Good! That proves that Tsing Chan knew nothing about the teakwood box with the silver dragon, the one that you told me about last night.”
“I see.” Kelroy nodded. “Tsing Chan would have had no cause to wait until I talked to Ku Luan — that is, if Tsing Chan had known that the teakwood box was important.”
“Not so fast,” objected Colin. “You are going on the assumption that Tsing Chan wanted to see you murdered. We have no proof of that fact, as yet.”
“But he talked with Wong Soy, the doorman,” insisted Kelroy, “and it was after I left them in the hallway that Wong Soy came in to spy upon me.”