Dropping back, the snarling crook aimed for this unexpected foe. Completely startled, the thug was an open target, but The Shadow could not take advantage of that opportunity.
Usually, The Shadow reserved bullets for an aftermath such as this. Tonight, the necessity of an immediate rescue had caused him to empty every cartridge in his guns.
The Shadow’s only course was to overwhelm his opponent with one swift drive. Whirling forward, he accomplished his purpose with speed and precision.
The Shadow’s right hand was driving downward with its automatic; his left fist made a quick pluck for the thug’s right wrist.
The crook fired, an instant too late. His gun hand was already in The Shadow’s grip. The flame from the revolver singed The Shadow’s hat brim for the crook’s hand went wide and high.
As the bullet whined uselessly from the revolver’s muzzle, The Shadow’s .45 cracked the would-be killer’s head. Half stunned, the crook plunged forward, seizing The Shadow’s body as he fell. Together, they rolled upon the floor.
Kelroy, on his feet in the passage, saw the finish of that struggle. He spied The Shadow rising; then, beyond, he saw another combatant coming into the fray.
It was Wong Soy, bounding from the inner room, the knife blade gleaming in his clawish yellow fist. The Chinaman was almost upon the stooped form of The Shadow.
A REVOLVER glittered from a gloved hand. Kelroy saw the flash as a finger pressed the trigger. The stab of flame went straight for Wong Soy’s heart, delivered from a four-foot range. The Shadow had whipped up the stunned thug’s gun to stop the Chinaman’s attack.
Wong Soy’s plunge did not end. Instead, his springing form landed squarely upon The Shadow, rolling the cloaked fighter to the floor. But Wong Soy’s blade found no human mark.
Kelroy saw the knife slip from a loosening claw and rattle harmlessly upon the floor. Kelroy knew the reason. The Shadow’s shot had finished the murderous Chinaman.
A wild impulse seized Kelroy as he saw The Shadow rolling free of Wong Soy’s dead body. Who was this rescuer in black? Was he a friend, or another foe? The fact that he had beaten back a horde of assassins proved nothing.
Half groggy from the blow upon his head, Kelroy could fancy nothing except danger. In a dazed fashion, he realized that he had been the object of attack. The wild thought struck him that this cloaked battler might represent a rival faction, as dangerous as the crew that had responded to Wong Soy’s cry.
The alley was clear beyond the passage. Flight was the hope that gripped Kelroy. Before The Shadow had time to rise, the young man made a dash.
He reached the alleyway and ran, stumbling, toward a lighted street beyond. He had chosen the course opposite to the one that Zack Ruggey and the scattered crooks had taken.
BACK at the doorway of the storeroom, The Shadow stood viewing the passage. He saw that Kelroy had left; he knew the direction that the rescued man must have taken. But before The Shadow could follow, a strong flashlight gleamed from the back door of Ku Luan’s. The Shadow dropped back from the doorway. As he waited, he heard the wail of a siren from the alley.
Tsing Chan was arriving from one direction; the police from the other. The Shadow swung swiftly toward the darkened storeroom. Entering, he found a space between two large crates. He squeezed between and wedged into an area behind the larger box.
Footsteps pounded from the passage. The babbly voice of Tsing Chan was audible amid the growls of policemen. The arrivals came through the outer room and turned on the light of the storeroom. Tsing Chan uttered a high-pitched cry as he pointed to the open iron chest.
Ten minutes of explanations followed. A plain-clothes man conducted the inquiry. The Shadow saw Doctor Doi Yan; the Chinese physician was addressing the official as Inspector Romson.
Uniformed officers were coming in with their reports. The first confusion gradually developed into an orderly conference. Inspector Romson, heavy-jawed and shrewd of eye, began to nod his agreement.
“That explains it,” The Shadow heard the inspector say. “We know who these fellows are. They’ve been working with Zack Ruggey. Like as not he’s mixed up in it. Just the kind of a tribe that would stage a job of this sort. They’ve been seen around Chinatown lately. They must have had this place spotted.
“Too bad about this fellow you call Wong Soy. He must have heard them breaking in; and came to see what was the matter. He got his, poor fellow. Well, the one break is that there must have been some feud among the guys in the outfit. They took this chance to work it out.
“Sorry to hear that old Ku Luan died tonight. We all liked him on the force, from what little we saw of him. Always minded his own business. That was the way Ku Luan was.”
“You are right, inspector,” assured Doi Yan in a sincere tone, “and this man Tsing Chan was Ku Luan’s faithful steward. I can assure you that he is honest—”
“I know you, doctor,” interposed the inspector. “Your word is good enough for me. You say that Tsing Chan here is honest; Tsing Chan tells me that Wong Soy was the same. The whole case fits. We’ll put a guard on here until tomorrow.”
THE inspector followed the two Chinamen from the storeroom. Tsing Chan had locked the iron chest; he was assuring Romson that nothing had been stolen. Lights blinked out; The Shadow moved from his hiding place.
Inspector Romson had left the outer door unlocked, intending to send in policemen from the alley. Tsing Chan and Doi Yan had gone back into the house. The Shadow took that direction.
Entering the ground floor hall, The Shadow reached the stairs. He heard voices from above; Doctor Doi Yan had gone up with Tsing Chan. The front door was still unbolted. The Shadow opened it and moved out into the darkness.
The front street was deserted. Its gloom afforded a sure route from this area. The Shadow took an uphill course, away from the lights that shone along the street below.
Crooks had scattered to safety. The Shadow’s agents, pursuing, had completed their task and were under cover. The police had found hoodlums, dead and wounded.
The latter, perhaps, would talk, but could probably tell the police no more than they already knew; namely, that a mobleader named Zack Ruggey had brought them in on this job.
Those points were incidental. Paramount was the fact that an unknown stranger had come to Ku Luan’s and had been marked for death. That man had been rescued by The Shadow; and had fled to temporary safety.
Tsing Chan had lied about the stranger’s visit. Wong Soy, in turn, had allied himself with those who had sought the stranger’s life.
Tsing Chan, explaining matters to the law, had deliberately covered up Wong Soy’s part of treachery.
Doctor Doi Yan, trusting Tsing Chan, had unwittingly aided the steward’s game.
The Shadow’s task was to learn the identity of that rescued man whose face he had glimpsed. Though he did not know David Kelroy’s name, The Shadow intended to find him. That could be accomplished through Tsing Chan. Not by questioning the Chinese steward, for it was best that Tsing Chan should believe himself clear of suspicion. The Shadow’s plan was more subtle.
The Shadow would watch Tsing Chan. The steward, thinking himself secure, would reveal his hand.
When that time came, The Shadow would meet the man he wanted: David Kelroy.
CHAPTER VII. A FRIEND IN THE FOG
ELEVEN o’clock.
David Kelroy noted the time in mechanical fashion. His watch in his hand, he was seated on a dampened bench, in a little square. Huddled away from the light of a street lamp, he could see the watch dial only when he held his hand at an angle in front of him.
Kelroy’s head was aching. His mind was in a continued whirl after his flight from Chinatown. Kelroy was trying to remember what had become of his carpet bag. This recollection had eluded him; suddenly, he gained it.