“Fear not, Doctor Tam.” The Shadow’s whispered tone was awe-impelling. “You have spoken truth. The fault is not yours. Come; let us return to your office. There we can learn the facts of treachery.”
Turning about, The Shadow stalked along the hall. Doctor Tam followed close behind him, wearing a strained expression. Noy Dow was last; in the gloom, the secretary’s face was twitching; but when he reached the lighted office, Noy Dow had regained composure.
His own display of nervousness had been unseen. Tense, yet alert, Noy Dow was prepared to tell a well-rehearsed story. One that he believed would deceive Doctor Tam, who trusted him; a tale that he was sure would bluff The Shadow, who trusted Doctor Tam.
CHAPTER XIX
THE SHADOW’S TRICK
THE SHADOW and Doctor Tam were seated side by side behind the Chinese physician’s broad desk. Like a pair of judges, they were awaiting others. Doctor Tam had sent Noy Dow to summon all the henchmen. Rigid, the Chinese doctor’s face was severe; but his pose was mild compared with that of the personage beside him.
As the door opened and Chinese filed in, their eyes passed Tam to waver at sight of The Shadow. Fully cloaked, his visage muffled, that judge was a being of blackness. Only the burning glitter of his eyes was visible beneath the shading of his lowered hat brim.
“Tuan — Leng — Fong — Wook — ” Doctor Tam indicated each servitor in turn. He pointed to the two outer guards whom The Shadow had first encountered; then named them: “Charn — Wahai.” Two others were present; one was Noy Dow, beside him was the Chinaman from the tea shop. Tam named the latter: “Wing Sook.”
Satsu entered just as Tam had finished. The physician pointed him to a chair; as Satsu took it, Tam remarked to The Shadow:
“Satsu was with me. He is clear of all suspicion.”
That statement given, Doctor Tam eyed the faces of the lined-up Chinese. Briefly, he told the cause for this assemblage.
“Our prisoners have departed,” explained Tam. “Some one of our band has aided them. We shall hear Noy Dow speak. Others may add words later.”
Noy Dow stepped forward and bowed. In careful, deliberate words, he told his story.
“All ways were guarded,” he declared. “Charn and Wahai held their posts. Wing Sook was present in his tea shop. I stayed a while in the Hunan Cafe; when I left there, I brought food and drink of varied sorts to the prisoners.
“They seemed peaceable, so I unbound them; but locked the door on my departure. They had provisions; they had no means of escape. I decided not to visit them again; for they could await your return, Doctor Tam.
“I came here to the office. I called Fong and told him to station himself within the portal that leads to the Hunan Cafe. He was there on guard when I went out last night. I passed the tea shop; it was locked and I knew that Wing Sook remained within.
“Yet on this morning, all came early. One might have gone to the prisoners and released them. How they could have passed the portals, I can not say. Unless one let them pass.”
Noy Dow paused. Wing Sook, his upraised finger trembling, was quick to speak in a quavering voice.
“What Noy Dow says sounds true,” the tea dealer told Doctor Tam. “But there was a way whereby those prisoners could have gone. After I went into my shop at dawn, men came to take away a shipment of tea boxes. This was after all present had arrived.
“The chests were ones that had been ordered. I gave no heed to their removal. It was afterward that other men came, Doctor Tam, to ask for those same chests. I thought that the new men were mistaken. They went away with their truck.
“To me has come the thought that there was no mistake. Those first men with their truck could well have come from Shan Kwan, the Mandarin, to carry away chests that held prisoners instead of tea.”
WING SOOK subsided, quivering. Doctor Tam’s cold gaze passed along the line. Harshly, the physician spoke: “Which of you turned traitor?”
No answer to the query. Tam’s fists tightened; he began to rise from the desk, when The Shadow clamped a gloved hand on his forearm. Doctor Tam sat down and blinked at his fellow inquisitor.
“None needs to speak,” whispered The Shadow, his tone carrying a taunting tinge. “There is an easier way by which our answer may be learned.”
Slowly, he removed his black gloves to reveal the white hands beneath. The girasol did not glitter; for The Shadow turned it inward as he took off the glove. That shimmering fire opal, The Shadow’s talisman, was lost from view within his palm.
A desk drawer was partly opened. With his right hand, The Shadow reached within it and dipped out a supply of loose coins that belonged to Doctor Tam. These were Chinese cash, thin brass coins with square holes in the center.
The money clattered, rolling on the desk. The Shadow gathered it; then divided the cash into little piles of six coins each, leaving a few disks extra. He beckoned to Satsu, who approached. Raising one stack of six coins between his left thumb and second finger, The Shadow dropped them into Satsu’s hand; then had the Korean clamp his other hand upon them.
“Are you the traitor?” queried The Shadow, in a sharp whisper.
Satsu stared, puzzled; but made no reply. The Shadow hissed a laugh; then spoke in quiet tone:
“Count the coins that you hold.”
Satsu counted the cash upon the desk. He spoke aloud as he did, counting “one — two — three” until he arrived at “six.” That was the last coin of the lot. The Shadow turned to Doctor Tam.
“Satsu is not the traitor,” he stated solemnly. “We know that fact; so I used him for the test. But if Satsu had been the traitor, those coins would not have remained the same. Let us see once more; this time with a different question.”
As he spoke, The Shadow slid the odd loose coins into his left hand and tossed them out of the way, back into the drawer from which he had taken them. That left only the stacks of six coins each.
In performing this maneuver, The Shadow added a touch that no one present observed. While the coins were in his left hand, he pressed one with his thumb and forced its edge beneath the girasol that projected from his ring. The coin remained there, loosely clamped. With his right hand, The Shadow beckoned again to Satsu. The Korean was ready.
AGAIN, The Shadow picked up the stack of six coins with his left hand. He held them between thumb and finger tip and let them drop into Satsu’s palm. The Shadow spread his fingers with the motion; the act released the extra coin from beneath the ring. Unseen, unnoticed, that one coin fell with the six. Satsu, clamping his hands together, became the unwitting holder of seven coins.
“Did you once serve a man named Chichester Laudring?” queried The Shadow.
Satsu understood that he was to make no reply. He kept his hands clamped and merely stared. Again, The Shadow turned to Doctor Tam.
“Satsu did serve Laudring,” pronounced The Shadow. “We know that fact. We shall find that the coins uphold it. There will be seven when Satsu counts them.”
The Shadow turned his gleaming gaze on Satsu. Carefully, the Korean counted the coins on the desk. He came to six; then found himself holding another. Satsu blinked as he uttered a surprised grunt.
Thronged Chinese had moved closer as they watched. From their lips came high-pitched exclamations of surprise. Doctor Tam noted it and nodded wisely. To a man, his servitors still possessed a nucleus of superstitious belief. They were impressed by this marvel, just as others had been swayed by Shan Kwan’s fables of the Fate Joss and its power.