“They read them downward,” nodded Romson.
“Yes,” agreed Dave, “and the Chinese start with the line on the right.”
“Exactly,” chuckled Lestman. “We read the message improperly at first. I was right when I said that its meaning was somewhat obscure. Read it downward, the right line first. Aloud, Kelroy.”
“‘Find treasure beneath single small gold statue,’” spoke Dave, quoting the message in its proper form.
“‘One key unlocks large casket.’”
“You have the keys,” remarked the curator, quietly. “The single gold statue is in the central niche, directly opposite the door.”
DAVE pulled the keys from his pocket. He turned to see the gold statue, glittering from its niche. The tiny image was the only one of gold; the other eight were silver. Stepping forward, Dave eyed the flat base of the niche. Lestman came to join the examination.
“It may be removable!” exclaimed Dave. “Wait — the statue is firmly located. I can try to draw it forward. The space in the wall below should be sufficient to hold a large casket.”
He laid the keys beside the statue. Gripping the gold image, he tugged. Something clicked; the flat ledge of the niche began to slide forward as Dave pulled. Then a sudden commotion broke loose behind him.
Startled, Dave wheeled about.
Colin was wrestling with Romson. The argument must have concerned Mark, for the roundish-faced man was gesturing excitedly with one forefinger.
“I insist we take him out of here!” Mark was storming. “The search for the treasure can continue later. Come, inspector! You have witnesses who can testify to the capture of a rogue. What you have said is true. Those prayer papers incriminate Colin!”
“They do?” Backed into a corner, Colin made savage retort, while Romson held him pinned. “Well, if prayer papers incriminate me, what about Mark? He had a set of his own. He knew who Ku Luan was. Don’t let him bluff you, inspector. Keep him here along with me, until Kelroy gets his treasure.”
Dryer stepped up to Romson. The lawyer was intervening in Colin’s behalf. Romson eased his grip to listen.
“What Colin says is fair,” decided Dryer. “I am his attorney, as well as Mark’s. Let me settle this dispute, temporarily, at least. Our first duty is to locate the treasure. Until that is done, we should avoid all interruptions.”
The inspector nodded. Still pressing Colin, he turned to Dave and nodded for him to proceed with the removal of the gold statue. Colin and Dryer looked in Dave’s direction; so did Lestman. Mark was forgotten, until Dave again placed his hand upon the statue. Then came another interruption, more startling than the first.
It was a venomous snarl, that could hardly have come from human lips. Facing about, all saw Mark Eldreth standing with leveled revolver. His lips were furious; his moonish face had taken on a vicious glare.
No one had taken Colin’s challenge seriously; they had thought that he was merely loosing spite at his hated cousin. All were wrong; Mark stood revealed as a factor more dangerous than even Colin had suspected.
Nor was Mark alone. Singledon had also drawn a gun. Momentarily, the attendant had been stupefied; for he had dealt only with Hype Mellick, and had not guessed that the gambler was backed by a hidden chief. Mark’s action, however, was all that Singledon had needed. Mark had guessed that the crooked attendant would rally to his aid. Mark had guessed right.
Two men held five completely covered. Mark had Romson, Colin and Dryer, all in a single cluster.
Singledon was aiming his revolver squarely toward Dave and Lestman, who were close together. Hands were coming upward; to a man, the startled five knew that they had no chance for battle.
MARK ELDRETH tilted his head and gave a sidewise nod toward the statue of the Manchu emperor.
Singledon understood the gesture. He was close beside the statue; he pounded his heel twice against the surface of the raised pedestal. He repeated the action twice again, delivering the later strokes more quickly.
The pounding sounded hollow. It was a signal that foreboded trouble, for Singledon was quick to slide away from the statue. He stood close beside Mark, gloating while the moon-faced man delivered contemptuous, sneering words.
“Colin guessed right,” decided Mark. “The game was mine. I figured that Ku Luan had treasure buried somewhere. I called in Hype Mellick. He bribed both Wong Soy and Singledon, for I was sure that the wealth must be at Ku Luan’s or here.
“Wong Soy told Hype that Ku Luan had summoned someone. Hype passed the word to me; he had Zack Ruggey ready. Wong Soy was the tip-off; but he slipped. Zack had to raid the Chinese bazaar. His crew and his Mexicans were there. They spotted Kelroy and saw that he wanted the teakwood box with the silver dragon.
“Zack called Hype and told him about the tapestry. I saw the significance of the prayer papers. Hype came secretly to my house early this evening. I gave him my set; he brought the prayer papers back to me, shortly after nine o’clock.”
The listeners were staring. Colin’s eyes were fixed in astonishment. Vaguely, he was realizing that Mark’s supposed timidity had been a presence. He recalled how Mark had once gained self-assurance, then had lapsed back into a cautious, almost fearful type of person.
That had been Mark’s way of covering his secret scheming, a perfect blind that had bluffed everyone.
Mark saw Colin’s amazed expression. He scoffed at his helpless cousin.
“Hype framed you, Colin,” jeered Mark. “I knew that Dryer planned to have you watched. That was why Hype and Zack trimmed you at the Club Monterey. Hype knew Durling was watching you; he fixed it so the dick would see you pass the money.”
Just after Mark delivered this outburst, a muffled boom occurred beneath the Manchu statue. The floor quaked momentarily. Helpless men were startled; but neither Mark nor Singledon moved as they felt the tremor. Their eyes, their guns, were still fixed on the prisoners. The five captives, however, had turned instinctively toward the Manchu statue.
The squatly bronze image had quivered with the muffled explosion. The pedestal had cracked; the statue had swung from its position to lean at a precarious angle. The main portion of its base had jammed, otherwise the statue would have fallen.
THE loose half of the cracked pedestal moved upward, pushed by ready hands beneath. A hole gaped; from it shouldered two men. The first was Hype Mellick; the second, Zack Ruggey.
They had found nothing beneath the large statue; but they had heard Singledon’s signal to come through.
They had “souped” the base of the statue; waiting in their underground passage, they had followed through after the explosive had done its work.
Fumes accompanied the arrival of the crooks. Coughing, clutching guns, Hype and Zack stared from the bluish smoke. They saw Mark; they saw Colin. They needed no words to inform them what was due. A rub-out was in order. Crooks would flee, leaving five dead men; the only survivors would be Mark and Singledon.
Mark would tell his story of the fray. Singledon would support it. Durling would be called in to supply evidence. All blame would be placed on Colin. Already, Singledon had caught Mark’s nod; the attendant was turning to aim his revolver at Colin. At Mark’s word, Singledon would fire. Colin, dead, would be classed as the one crook slain in a supposed combat.
Hype had growled to Zack. The latter was beckoning at the yawning gap beside the tilted statue. Other heads and hands were appearing. The crew was coming through. Gloatingly, Mark spoke to Hype.
“Remove the treasure,” ordered the master crook. “It is in that space beneath the gold statue. Bring out the casket, Hype. After that, we start.”