Hurtling in from an angle was a long-limbed Chinaman, whose knife sparkled momentarily in the gleam.
Then The Shadow’s light clicked off; he was twisting in solid darkness.
A chunky form thudded The Shadow’s shoulder and gave new impetus to his twist. A knife blade slicked a fold of the sweeping cloak, then skidded to the floor as The Shadow caught the attacker’s wrist.
The Chinaman writhed about; The Shadow rolled him to the floor with a quick jujutsu hold. With one hand, he clamped the fellow’s mouth; with the other, he produced a handkerchief, to wedge between the man’s teeth.
Except for the click of knife on stone, the battle had been almost silent. The muzzle of an automatic pressed the guard’s neck. Whispering words in Chinese, The Shadow ordered the man to his feet.
Using his flashlight, he thrust the Chinaman toward the closed door. Again he whispered an order. The prisoner hesitated for a moment; then rapped.
A Chinese voice babbled the order to enter. The guard thrust the door inward, then went sprawling forward as The Shadow gave a hard thrust with his gun hand. As the gagged Chinaman floundered, a black-jacketed Celestial leaped to his feet, only to be covered by The Shadow’s gun.
Grimacing, the trapped man sank back into his chair, beside a table whereon an electric lamp was shining. Hands raised, this new prisoner stared blinking at the cloaked intruder who had captured him.
A whispered laugh came from The Shadow’s hidden lips. Its uncanny tones were echoed from the stone walls of this tiny room. The Shadow had conquered danger to find the man he sought. The Chinaman in the chair was Tsing Chan, the missing steward who had served Ku Luan.
No one had seen Tsing Chan since his disappearance from the Chinese bazaar. The law had searched for him in vain. But The Shadow had found Tsing Chan, deep within the secret walls of this guarded, underground lair!
CHAPTER XVIII. THE SHADOW’S ALLY
TSING CHAN looked like one who had seen a ghost. His gaze was fixed upon The Shadow’s black-cloaked form, where only burning eyes were visible beneath the brim of the slouch hat.
Then to Tsing Chan’s ears came sounds that made him certain that this visitor had stepped from another world. The Shadow was speaking; his words were in Chinese.
Feebly, Tsing Chan replied. As if to experiment, he tried a sentence in English. He thought himself faced by some Oriental demon, who had gained this room because the doorway had no blocking screen.
Tsing Chan was almost hopeful; for he doubted that any Chinese devil spirit could speak other than the language of the Far East.
“Why — why have you come?” gasped Tsing Chan. “No evil is mine—”
“You have spoken truly, Tsing Chan,” interposed The Shadow, in a whispered tone. “Your part is known to me. Your innocence was proven, in my sight.”
Tsing Chan smiled weakly. His eyes lighted; cannily, they surveyed The Shadow’s height.
“You were the one who came and departed unseen,” he stated slowly. “The one who must have saved my master’s friend, upon the night of Wong Soy’s treachery. You were the one who stood alone at the bazaar. It was there that I saw your face, when again you brought rescue to David Kelroy.”
Tsing Chan’s speech marked him as a Chinese of unusual education, the very type of man whom Ku Luan would have chosen for faithful stewardship. His frankness was proof that The Shadow had correctly divined that Tsing Chan was no traitor.
“I am the one of whom you speak,” announced The Shadow. “I have come to gain the teakwood box. The box with the silver dragon.”
TSING CHAN smiled.
“The box is safe,” he declared. “My servant, Lee Yan, was fortunate to gain it. He told me how he seized it. He did not understand that you—”
Tsing Chan paused. He shook his head; then added:
“Nor did I truly know. Lee Yan spoke only of one clad in black. Fear seized me when you entered. It was not until this moment that I realized all the truth.”
The Shadow remained silent. Tsing Chan had gained calmness. He began to tell his story.
“My master, Ku Luan had two great, honored friends,” declared the steward. “One was Tobias Eldreth, who lived here in San Francisco. The other was David Kelroy — the senior — who dwelt in Shanghai. Ku Luan had treasure, which he wished to give to his nephew Tyan Li.
“To Ku Luan came disappointment. His nephew, Tyan Li, had shown himself unworthy. In his stead, Ku Luan chose the younger David Kelroy. For the father, like Tobias Eldreth, was dead. To me, Ku Luan entrusted the duty of giving welcome to David Kelroy. On that same night, Ku Luan spoke to him alone.”
Tsing Chan paused. His eyes were far-away in their gaze. They were visualizing that weird death scene; when Ku Luan, the living dead man, had parted finally with life.
“Ku Luan had wisdom,” resumed Tsing Chan. “When the wise choose, the simple should not find fault. It was part of Ku Luan’s wisdom to tell me very little. To Wong Soy, he spoke even less. I knew nothing of the object which Ku Luan preserved for David Kelroy; nor did I know its meaning.
“Wong Soy knew only that Ku Luan awaited someone; that wealth was the cause of Ku Luan’s waiting.
Wong Soy became a traitor; yet neither Ku Luan nor I suspected. When David Kelroy came, Ku Luan sent him to the storeroom. Wong Soy followed while I was by the body of my master.
“Evil men came at Wong Soy’s call. I knew that when I saw his body in the storeroom. Wong Soy was a traitor; but I could not tell the law. I could not speak the name of David Kelroy. Ku Luan, upon his deathbed, told me to keep secret the visit of his heir.”
Tsing Chan had risen from his chair. He had recognized that by speaking to The Shadow, he could best serve the wishes of Ku Luan. Tsing Chan was displaying wisdom of his own.
“Nothing was gone from the storeroom,” he explained. “I knew that David Kelroy had escaped. I feared that he would not trust me, for he had witnessed Wong Soy’s treachery. Yet I knew that he must come to gain some object that was among the many belonging to Ku Luan. I watched for David Kelroy at the auction. He came there; I saw his eyes light when they spied the teakwood box that bore the silver dragon.
“Then came the fire of many guns. Men with knives seized the teakwood box. Lee Yan, once my master’s servant, was quick to turn off the lights. He and three others sought to aid David Kelroy. He and a friend did not know their purpose. They were driven off; they joined me after I had fled.
“Those men who took the box were Mexicans. While I was hiding, Lee Yan searched for them. He found their hiding place tonight. He entered, when he heard sounds of battle. He saw the teakwood box in the hands of an unknown. He grasped the box and brought it here to me.”
WITH a profound bow, Tsing Chan resumed his chair. Words came from The Shadow’s lips:
“You saw the tapestry within the box?”
Tsing Chan nodded.
“Yes,” he stated. “It was of silk, with many pictures, like those that were in the other boxes. Its meaning was unknown to me. My duty was to place it in the hands of David Kelroy. When last I saw David Kelroy, I saw another whose face I had seen before. His name was Colin Eldreth.
“So to Lee Yan, I gave a simple task. He has gone to the apartment of Colin Eldreth, carrying the teakwood box and the tapestry contained within it. There, Lee Yan will leave it, so that it may be found by David Kelroy.”
As Tsing Chan completed his statement, a bell tingled. With a bland smile, the steward lifted a square box and picked up a telephone. In English, he stated:
“This is one extension. It is from the wire of my friend, Sim Kee, whose shop is above this secret room.”