Satsu edged into a doorway near the corner. The two men did not see him as they passed; but the Korean caught snatches of their conversation. One was speaking in a growclass="underline"
“I said it was a crank call, Casey. Well, I was right. Some guy got a kick out of us chasing up to an empty house. I’ll bet that place has been closed for a year.”
“You’re right, Parker. Well, we’ll ride back to headquarters. Maybe Joe Cardona will be there by now—”
The two men had passed from hearing distance; but their words had told Satsu much. The Korean knew that Laudring must have discovered his bluff about the telephone. Going back to his original idea, Laudring had called headquarters. Two detectives had come in response; but they had been denied admittance.
Satsu decided to put in a telephone call to Doctor Tam. He preferred to make it from the drug store where he had gone before. Making for that destination, Satsu found an empty booth. He dialed his number and gave the news to Doctor Tam.
Satsu’s subsequent conversation now proved that he had gained new instructions. He repeated words that he heard from Doctor Tam, and added his own comments.
“Very well, Doctor Tam,” was his reply. “I shall wait until I see them. Then I shall call you from here. As you have said, Doctor Tam: It is very wise that I should not go back into the house until all is ready.”
Satsu strolled from the drug store. He walked away toward Laudring’s, but reversed his pace and kept strolling back and forth along an avenue. Carefully, he watched all cars that turned along side streets toward Laudring’s. Twenty minutes passed; the limit of Satsu’s hour had arrived.
A SEDAN swung from the avenue. Satsu caught a view of the man behind the wheel. He saw a yellow face, with lips that were speaking to another man in the front seat. Satsu watched the car roll away in darkness. He hurried back to the drug store.
A coupe swung from a side street before Satsu reached his destination; the Korean saw it stop near the drug store. A young man alighted and entered before Satsu arrived.
Both telephone booths were occupied when Satsu entered the store. The young man was in one, the druggist in the other, receiving an incoming call. Satsu studied the young man’s profile as he waited. He noted a keen expression on that clean-cut face. The druggist came out of the second booth; Satsu entered it. Thanks to the thinness of wall, he caught the young man’s final words.
“Thirty blocks straight up the avenue,” was the statement. “With only a half block at the start… Yes, that means three minutes more. I’ll be ready…”
The young man left the telephone booth. Satsu called Doctor Tam and spoke tersely.
“I have seen them… Yes, I shall return at once… Yes, you will hear from me afterward, Doctor Tam… Some of them; not all… I understand, Doctor Tam. The rest should be here with them…”
This time, Satsu was prompt in his return to Laudring’s. He chose the darkness at the rear of the house, gained the back door and entered the unlighted kitchen. Stealing into the hallway, Satsu listened; then tried the door that led to the cellar. It was locked. Satsu inserted the key; then, as an afterthought, went to the foot of the stairway.
Silence, only, from the second floor. Satsu could discern the glow of lights, reflected by the upper wall of the landing; but he was too far below to see the dead form of Hoang Fu.
After a few minutes, Satsu went back to the cellar door; he was about to turn the key that he had left there when he heard a sound from the kitchen.
Satsu had left the rear door unlocked; he knew that persons were entering. Ever cautious, the Korean pulled the key from the door and went rapidly toward the front parlor. He reached that destination just as footsteps were sounding in the dining room. A Chinaman entered the hall; four others followed.
All were dressed in American attire, but they spoke in their own tongue. One pointed toward the front of the hall; another motioned back toward the dining room. As they began to spread out, they did not watch the door that led to the cellar. One man had tried it; but moved away to babble that it was locked.
“Hoang Fu—”
Satsu caught a mention of the name as he reached to push aside a curtain and speak to these arrivals. Then the Korean stopped short as he caught a glimpse of one Chinaman turning toward the rear of the hall. A high-pitched babble had come from the guard stationed at the dining room.
Satsu understood the words. The guard was giving singsong news about the cellar door. Like a flash, the Chinamen snatched out weapons and herded toward the rear of the hall. As they made in that direction, Satsu heard a strange, uncanny laugh.
From his lookout post, the Korean saw blackness heave forward from that darkened area behind the stairway. He caught the outline of a living figure; again he heard the rising crescendo of a fierce, challenging laugh.
Five Chinamen were diving toward a cloaked shape in black. Three with revolvers, two with knives — their flashing weapons told of their desire for combat. Sole witness to the coming fray, Satsu was to see The Shadow do battle with these new invaders in this house of doom!
CHAPTER IX
THE VANISHED JOSS
THREE sharp clicks were the first sounds of the combat. They came from revolvers in the hands of Chinamen. True to form, these fellows carried guns with empty chambers beneath the hammers, a safety measure preferred by the Chinese.
Each weapon needed one trigger pull to bring a cartridge into duty; and each Celestial was quick with the move. But of the three, only one had opportunity to press the trigger for the second time. Hard on the clicks came thunderous blasts that re-echoed through the hallway.
Two of the Chinese staggered — the pair closest to The Shadow. The third man fired from a greater distance; his bullet sizzled wide of the form in black. Then came another blast from an automatic. The third Chinaman faltered, vainly trying to press the trigger of his gun.
Satsu, from the curtains, saw two knife-wielders diving forward. The Chinese with the ready blades had given their companions the first opportunity; but they were already on the move when the shooting started.
Their part was to carve a crippled foeman; instead, they hurled themselves upon an unwounded battler. The attack, however, was too prompt for The Shadow to drop them as they came. Satsu saw the cloaked fighter fade. He thought that the down-driving knives had found a mark. Little did he know of The Shadow’s strategy.
One knife-handler like Hoang Fu was more dangerous than these two apprentices in murder. Sweeping from one swinging blade, The Shadow swung an automatic against the wrist that held the other. A Chinaman went sprawling to the floor, his knife clattering ahead of him. The Shadow grappled with the man who had missed the first stroke.
Satsu, rigid, looked on; though powerful, the Korean was unarmed. He had no desire to join the combat in which five men had been no match for one. The Shadow had wounded his first three adversaries; one, rising with his gun, was aiming again as The Shadow grappled to get the knife from the last remaining killer.
One gloved hand was clutching the knife wrist, the other still retained its automatic. That weapon boomed three riddling blasts that ended the fellow who had tried to fire. Satsu saw the Celestial spill to the floor, his revolver thudding useless beside him.
The others with regained revolvers were near the entrance of the dining room. At sight of their fellow’s fate, they uttered frightened cries and went stumbling toward the kitchen. Only two enemies remained: one, grappling with a knife that he would not drop; the other, on hands and knees, rising with the blade that he had lost.
This fellow paused for a throw; but The Shadow was away from him. The muzzle of an automatic loomed from beneath the arm of the Chinaman with whom The Shadow was wrestling.