The Shadow entered the hideout. He left the door open, to gain slight light from the hall. He spied the closet door; he opened it and saw the shelf. The Shadow reached up; his gloved hands found the teakwood box.
Drawing it from the shelf, The Shadow carried his prize toward the hall. Dull light brought a glint from the silver dragon. Then came startling surprise.
For once, The Shadow was too intent upon a discovery. His hands were already lifting the cover of the box; even his keen ears had failed to hear a sound. It was the sight of two driving hands that woke The Shadow into belated action.
Swift, yellow claws, they thrust themselves straight beneath The Shadow’s eyes and grabbed the teakwood box. Looking up, The Shadow stared squarely into the face of a glaring Chinaman clad in a loose-bloused native costume. It was the man who had been on watch outside. He had not seen The Shadow enter; but he had caught sounds of the fray with the Mexicans. Arriving with surprising stealth, the Chinaman had come in time to snatch the teakwood box from The Shadow’s very clutch. Nor did he stop with that defiant deed.
WHEELING, the Chinaman made one long bound for the stairs. He reached the landing with a single leap, as The Shadow, whisking forth an automatic, came after him.
Rebounding as he hit the wall, the Chinaman dived for the bottom of the stairs, still ahead of his cloaked pursuer. Before The Shadow could overtake him, he had scurried through the rear door, to dash off amid the darkness.
The Shadow stopped in the lower hall. Pursuit was useless; he had been balked in a fashion that he had never before experienced. Yet from his lips came a whispered laugh, grim and prophetic.
For in this loss of the teakwood box, The Shadow had gained proof that forgotten factors were still at work. Though he held his prize no longer, he knew where it had gone.
A new, swift quest would be The Shadow’s. One that he had dropped because of others, a trail which he had expected to take later, after other matters had been finished. Urgency now compelled him to alter the course that he had previously chosen.
Again The Shadow laughed. His whispered mirth faded with his figure. Lost in blackness, The Shadow was bound on the trail of the Chinaman who had vanished with the all-important teakwood box.
CHAPTER XVI. A FRIENDSHIP RENEWED
Two hours had passed. Fog was thickening about the front of the Coronado Apartments. A man across the street was watching the only entrance to the building. The look-out was Harry Vincent. The Shadow’s agent was on the job.
Harry had gone to the Club Monterey. He had spotted Colin Eldreth from The Shadow’s description and had watched Colin for more than an hour. Harry had noted Durling, also. When Colin had left the gambling casino, Durling had followed. Harry had done likewise. Through the increasing mist, two cabs had trailed Colin’s coupe.
Durling had left the scene after following Colin to the Coronado. The dick had not suspected Harry’s presence, nor had Colin. Harry had remained outside, watching the doorway, and also noting the faint glimmer of lights from Colin’s living room. As he waited, Harry saw the glow blink out.
Hastily, The Shadow’s agent moved along the street. He turned a corner toward a garage, where Colin’s coupe had been taken by an attendant. Harry saw the coupe roll from the garage. Evidently, Colin had called for it.
Harry, however, had a way to match the game. Hurrying past the garage, he found a taxi parked around the next corner. Harry roused the sleepy driver.
The Shadow’s agent had paid the taximan a few dollars to remain in this vicinity. Knowing that another fare was coming, the driver became active. Harry climbed aboard; the cab rolled from the corner just in time for Harry to spot Colin’s coupe starting from the Coronado. Harry ordered the taxi driver to take up the trail.
A DOZEN minutes later, the coupe pulled up in front of an antiquated hotel that bore the sign “Thurbley.”
Harry paid the taxi driver and followed Colin into the lobby. Colin was no longer wearing his tuxedo. He had changed clothes during his brief sojourn at his apartment.
Idling in the lobby, Harry heard Colin inquire for Mr. Lawdon. The clerk gave the room number as 308.
Harry watched Colin enter an elevator. As soon as the car had started upward, Harry edged to an old stairway. Unspotted by the clerk, he made for the third floor. He arrived to observe Colin knocking at the door of 308. The portal opened; Colin was admitted.
As soon as the door closed, Harry sidled into the hall and crept forward. He stooped outside the door and listened. A moment later, he was startled by a warning whisper.
Harry snapped about, toward the next door, 306. He saw Miles Crofton beckoning from the threshold.
Harry crept into a darkened room. Miles closed the door.
“I managed to get this room,” whispered Miles. “No chance to shove a mike into Kelroy’s room; but we don’t need a dictograph. We can listen through the connecting door. There’s an old wardrobe closet on the other side of it. Kelroy doesn’t know the door’s open.
“I muffled the telephone bell and stowed the telephone in a closet. There was a call from Doctor Tam — I’d been in touch with him — and we’re to report to Tam until further notice.”
Harry nodded in the darkness. He and Miles edged toward the corner where the door connected with 308. Listening, they could catch plain-spoken words that passed between Dave Kelroy and Colin Eldreth.
The two were seated in the light; but The Shadow’s agents could not see them because of the blocking wardrobe. Dave was in his shirt sleeves, eyeing Colin with an air that betrayed suspicion. Colin was nonchalant; he gave no indication that he noted Dave’s attitude.
“I expected to find you back at the apartment,” Colin was remarking. “I was worried when you weren’t there. That’s why I came down here. Right after I arrived home from the club.”
“From the Pioneer Club?” queried Dave.
Colin nodded. He was lighting a cigarette. As he flicked the match into an ash stand, his face showed a serious frown.
“This is bad business, Dave,” said Colin. “It’s not wise for you to stay down here alone. You know the trouble you had in Chinatown.”
“This isn’t Chinatown.”
“Admitted. Nevertheless, you are alone.”
“What of it? I had trouble when you were with me. So what’s the difference?”
Colin puffed at his cigarette. Approaching, he clapped his hand upon Dave’s shoulder. There was a tone of deep sincerity in his voice.
“What’s happened, Dave?” asked Colin. “Don’t you trust me? Out with it, old man.”
“All right,” retorted Dave. “I don’t like double-dealing. You forced me into such methods, this afternoon.”
“When I told you not to mention me to Dryer?”
“Yes. He received me cordially. So did Mark. They wanted to know my story. I was forced to lie.”
“I did not want to embarrass you, Dave. That was why I told you not to mention my name. Moreover, I was thinking of your safety. Suppose some enemy had been watching Dryer’s; suppose someone had heard you mention that you were living at my apartment?”
DAVE considered; but made no answer. Colin smiled.
“There’s more to it than that, Dave,” he declared. “Someone has poisoned your mind against me. Probably my cousin Mark.”
“Mark said nothing,” began Dave, hotly. “He—”
“Wait,” interposed Colin. “If you are really sore, Dave, it’s because you think I’ve actually lied to you myself. If it concerns those prayer papers I spoke about, you’re all wrong. I looked in the wrong place for them; but I’ve found them since.