They stepped down into a square-shaped, windowless room, that measured thirty feet in each direction.
In the center was a large bronze statue, a representation of an ancient Chinese emperor. The figure was more than life size; its pedestal was firmly fitted into the stone floor of the room.
The walls were hung with Oriental tapestries; between these drapes were niches, set at intervals, each like a window-ledge projecting into a solid wall. The niches were four feet from the floor; they measured about three feet in height and two feet in width. Their domes were oval-shaped, in contrast to the flat-bottom ledges.
DAVE noted nine such alcoves, three in each wall as a person faced from the door. Each niche contained an exquisite statuette, a dozen inches tall. The central statuette was of gold; the others were of silver, but all had the same fine workmanship.
The large bronze statue in the center of the room was the main object, however, and it was the one to which Doctor Lestman pointed.
“The guardian statue,” explained the curator. “That was what Ku Luan called this figure of an early Manchu emperor. He brought the statue with him from China. I firmly believe that Ku Luan attached significance to this room, for he himself superintended its construction.
“And yet there is nothing here to aid us.” Dangling Dave’s keys, Lestman looked about the room; then toward the keys themselves. “There is no door, no opening, which any key might unlock. Particularly keys so large as these.”
He returned the keys to Kelroy. All the visitors had finished a brief inspection of the room. They returned to the office, followed by the poker-faced attendant, who stood and waited for Lestman’s order.
“Nothing more, Singledon,” said the curator, briskly. “You may go back to duty.” Then, when the attendant had gone, Lestman added to Dave: “These may interest you, Mr. Kelroy.”
From a desk drawer he produced a small Chinese box and took out a stack of long, square-shaped prayer papers. As he sorted them on the table, he pointed to the symbols that appeared upon them.
Dave was intent; these were the very types of prayer papers that Colin had mentioned. More than that, their symbols were identical with some that had appeared upon the tapestries that Dave had seen at last night’s auction.
“In the safe,” remarked Lestman, “I have one complete set of these prayer papers which are marked with the English meanings of the symbols. A few of these are marked — such as this green sun, which has the translation ‘happiness’ — but most of them are merely extras.”
Dave was looking through the prayer papers as the curator spoke. He stopped suddenly; he had come to one that bore a picture of a yellowish pagoda, like the golden weave upon the silken square that Ku Luan had sent him as a token. This prayer paper was marked with a word in English: “Welcome.”
Dave caught himself as he was about to speak. Idly, he tossed the paper back with the others and watched Lestman replace them in the box. Dave was thinking keenly and quickly.
He had gained an answer that he wanted. Should he ever gain the silver dragon teakwood box and find the tapestry within it, these prayer papers would serve as a translation to its message.
Colin had a set of the prayer papers. He had dropped mention of them after last night’s visit to Chinatown. Colin, Dave knew, had recognized that the symbols on certain tapestries could be translated.
But Colin, like Dave, had failed to see the all-important tapestry that was within the box with the silver dragon. The auctioneer had never had a chance to unfold that last sheet of heavy silk.
It was wise to make no comment in front of Dryer or Mark; for should he do so, Dave would have to explain the facts that he had hidden. He felt it policy to go through with the plan that he had started: to say nothing about his meeting with Colin and last night’s adventure in Chinatown.
Tomorrow, Dave decided, he could pay another visit to this museum and express interest in the prayer papers. Doctor Lestman would suspect nothing; Dave could then examine the paper squares for clues.
That one word ‘welcome,’ represented by the golden pagoda, was all that Dave had required as a clue.
Dave felt that Colin had tricked him. His only part was to continue that game, until he had gained the full confidence of these men who had shown him sympathy and friendship. After that had been attained, he could tell them his whole story.
TURNING from the desk, Dave smiled wearily as he faced Dryer. The old lawyer placed a sympathetic hand upon the young man’s shoulder. Mark shook his head slowly and sadly, to indicate that he, too, felt Dave’s disappointment.
“Never mind the condolences,” decided Dave. He was planning as he spoke. “I have a hunch that my teakwood box will show up somewhere. Suppose you drop me at my hotel, while we are driving down town.”
“Where are you stopping?” inquired Dryer.
“At the Thurbley,” replied Dave naming the first small hotel that came to his mind. “I don’t know the way to the hotel, from here; but the chauffeur can certainly find it.”
“Very well,” decided Dryer. “We shall drop you there, Kelroy. Keep in touch with me from day to day.”
It was nearly dusk as they left the museum. Singledon, the sour-faced attendant, closed the door after their departure. Peering through the crack, the man watched the four visitors enter the limousine.
Singledon looked about to make sure that Doctor Lestman was still in his office. Assured of that fact, the attendant indulged in an ugly smile.
Somewhere in the net that enmeshed Dave Kelroy, Singledon formed a link. Yet Dave — like others — had failed to guess that treachery might be present at the Oriental Museum.
CHAPTER XIV. THE SHADOW FOLLOWS
DUSK had deepened about the Coronado Apartments. A swath of light cut through the gloom as Colin Eldreth swung his coupe around the nearest corner. The car rolled to a stop; the lights blinked out.
Colin alighted and hurriedly entered the building. He had been out for an hour’s drive; he had sped back in order to arrive ahead of Dave Kelroy.
Eyes from the dusk were watching the Coronado Apartments. Peering from across the street, a somber, shrouded figure saw lights blink from the windows of a second-floor apartment. A soft laugh whispered in the gloom. A shaded form crept forward.
The Shadow had checked the license number of the coupe which Harry Vincent had noted in Chinatown.
Gaining the name of Colin Eldreth, The Shadow had come here to watch. He had seen the coupe drive up; he had watched for light somewhere in the apartment house. He had guessed where Colin lived.
The apartment was in one end of the building. Blank windows indicated bedrooms between a living room and the final wall. The ground was steep; its rise offered easy access to the second floor. The Shadow went in that direction. He merged with the darkened end of the building.
Up in his living room, Colin had opened the Mah Jong cabinet that contained the prayer papers.
Unfolded with the papers was a sheet upon which he had written a list. Colin was checking the translations that he had compiled. He was noting the list:
After…………Blue Sun
Beneath…………Green Serpent
Bright…………Red Poppy
Casket…………Yellow Fish
Day…………Yellow Gate
Find…………Green Spider
Friend…………Red Sword
Gold…………Green Bell
Happiness…………Green Sun
Hidden…………Yellow Bird
Home…………Yellow Sword
Key…………Blue Pagoda