The Shadow’s taunt was ominous, here in this closed room. It might have been uttered by a being from some outer space, that weird tone that threatened ill to evildoers. Six men had responded automatically, placing themselves fully at The Shadow’s mercy. One alone had not raised his arms; he, too, was the only one who did not tremble. That cool individual was Doctor Roy Tam.
CALM at his desk, the physician sat with folded hands. His scowl had ended; his lips had curved into a welcoming smile. Tam’s eyes met the burn of The Shadow’s gaze. The physician bowed as if in greeting. Silence followed The Shadow’s menacing laugh; the invader was keen in his study of that one unperturbed person who had not quailed before his challenge.
Despite his confidence, Doctor Tam was helpless. Alone, he could offer no resistance, for his men had deserted him through sheer fear. Yet Tam did not seem troubled by his position, nor was his attitude one of resignation. Instead, he seemed to be a man who expected recognition as a reward for his straightforward behavior. The recognition came when The Shadow spoke.
“Doctor Tam,” pronounced The Shadow, solemnly, “I came here to test your wisdom. I find that you have understanding. You may dismiss your servitors, that we may talk as friends.”
Still smiling, Doctor Tam looked about the room. He spoke quietly, in English; raised arms came downward. Still trembling, Tuan opened the outer door; one by one, the others filed after him into the hall beyond. The door closed, while Doctor Tam still sat with hands folded on the desk.
The Shadow’s automatics dropped beneath his cloak; a gloved hand swung a chair before the desk. Seating himself opposite the cool physician, The Shadow waited for Doctor Tam to speak.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE ALLIANCE
“You have complimented me,” spoke Doctor Tam, with a smile, “on my understanding. Let me say, in turn, that your own knowledge of truth must far surpass my own.”
Watching The Shadow as he spoke, Doctor Tam could not restrain a blink when he saw the cloak and hat drop backward. For a moment, the physician stared in troubled fashion at the made-up face beneath. The sight of a yellowed countenance was unexpected. Oddly, it was The Shadow’s momentary laugh that relieved Doctor Tam.
“I–I had heard of you,” faltered the physician, “but I–I had not expected to see you as one of my countrymen. Your guise gave me my first pang of fear.” Tam smiled wanly. “Real fear, for my only enemies are certain men from my native land.”
“A fact that I have recognized,” declared The Shadow, in an even tone. “That, Doctor Tam, is one reason why I have chosen this disguise.”
“A fact that you have recognized,” repeated Tam, slowly. “Tell me, honored friend, what reasons made you know that crime was not my purpose? Circumstances have made many turn against me. The case of Hoang Fu, for instance.”
“Let us consider Hoang Fu,” interposed The Shadow. “It is said that he served you, Doctor Tam.”
“Quite true. But he had left my service—”
“Before he turned to murder. A fact which I knew must be a true one after Hoang Fu slew Chichester Laudring.”
“How did Laudring’s death indicate that?”
“Because you already had Satsu as your servant. Had you sought Laudring’s death, Satsu could have performed the deed with greater ease and less risk than Hoang Fu.”
“That is true. Yet it had not occurred to me that it would stand as indication of my innocence.”
The Shadow spoke again, his tone firm and deliberate.
“After my battle with Hoang Fu,” he declared, “I fought with five who had come to take the Fate Joss. They had entered Laudring’s house, like Hoang Fu; but they had not been sent there by you. Had they come from you, they would have traveled through the underground passage from the house at the rear. The passage of which Satsu knew.
“Moreover, those men spoke Chinese, not English; they were like one whom I encountered last night, in Chinatown. One who, dying, talked first in Chinese, but who, when questioned, said his name was Toian Soi; then, turning to English speech declared that he served Doctor Roy Tam—”
“Another traitor!” exclaimed Doctor Tam. “Another, like Hoang Fu; another such as Chang Look, who was with those you fought at Laudring’s. Trusted men have become deserters — gone to join Shan Kwan — deceived by the mandarin’s promises—”
“LET US speak for a moment of others,” suggested The Shadow. “Two of my men have been taken prisoners. Shan Kwan holds them—”
Doctor Tam interrupted by a shake of his head. He smiled pleasantly.
“It was I who captured them,” he admitted, “but they have not suffered. I told Noy Dow to treat them well. I was about to have them brought to me when you entered. Do you wish to see them at once?”
“Not yet,” returned The Shadow, his tone more deliberate. “It would be better first for you to tell me of the Fate Joss. It was taken from my control; and men who talked Chinese remained at its hiding place. Men who certainly served Shan Kwan; yet apparently the idol was gained by some one influencing my own men.”
“The ones that I hold here?”
“One of them.”
“Some traitor has talked to Shan Kwan. Some new traitor. Shan Kwan possesses amazing skill. He may have managed almost any game by proxy. I assure you, the men are safe. Noy Dow is the one upon whom I can absolutely rely.”
“Then let us resume. Tell me your facts; the reasons for your actions. Speak fully, Doctor Tam.”
The physician pondered, tapping the desk top. He was thinking back recalling incidents of the past. When he spoke in answer, his story proved concise.
“We of China who now live in America,” stated Tam, “compose two groups. One favors old traditions; the other calls for new. Each group has many honorable men; though their hopes differ, men of honor do not quarrel. Yat Soon, the arbiter, is of the old; while I am of the new. Yat Soon and I have always exchanged respects, even though our paths are apart.
“In each group are a few who have proven themselves unworthy. Such men are ones whom neither Yat Soon nor myself will tolerate. Yet men of evil, like the fox, are cunning. They deal in deceit, particularly with those to whom they are close. Such is the way of the mandarin, Shan Kwan; being of the old, he would seek to mislead Yat Soon.”
With this preamble, Doctor Tam paused. His square-jawed face was straight toward The Shadow; his eyes carried a convincing sparkle.
“BEING of the new school,” resumed Tam, “I have friends in many cities. Through those in San Francisco, I was informed long since that the Fate Joss from Jehol was in America, brought by a man named Chichester Laudring. For the idol itself, I cared nothing; but I feared the consequences should it fall into the hands of an evildoer.
“No danger could exist among those who believe in the new; who wish that Chinese in this country would assume the ways of America, instead of their old customs. For we of the new school seek to break down superstition. The danger could lie only if the Fate Joss were acquired by some schemer who retained and taught old beliefs.
“Soon after the Fate Joss reached America, certain of my followers deserted me. I questioned them in person; though they would say but little, I discovered that they had listened to the promises of Shan Kwan the Mandarin. His purpose, so I gathered, was to form a cult, with the Fate Joss as its center. He was leading his proselytes to believe that he would soon possess the idol; that through it, he would control the destinies of all Chinese in America.