The hands of the statue were upraised, supporting the sculptured likeness of a decorative sash that hung behind the idol’s neck. The glaring features were distorted with a horrible leer, which showed fang-like teeth of bronze between thick, outspread lips.
Claw-like nails of fingers and toes were of glittering gold that formed a contrast to the duller bronze. Gold was the handle of the sword; so were portions of the garments. Most startling of all were the eyeballs; for they, too, were of shining gold with blood-red garnets as their pupils. Bulging, those eyes seemed to glare at the intruders.
Other jewels glimmered; they, however, were but ornamental portions of the sculptured figure’s garb. To Laudring and Satsu, those gems were incidental. So were the two other sculptured objects that stood with the huge idol, one on either side.
These were squatty, dog-shaped figures that came only to the idol’s knees. Their mouths were as wide as their bodies, for these seated statues were actually ancient cannons. Their muzzles were fitted with plugs, which detracted from their warlike appearance; but that did not calm Laudring and Satsu. Their eyes scarcely noted the guardian dogs of war.
The huge statue was what held them, as powerfully as if it had been a creature of life. For its very presence in this unexpected place imbued it with a power that seemed superhuman. Chichester Laudring and his servant were staring at the bronze idol that they had stowed in Dustin Clabb’s vault.
This towering, glaring thing of bronze that had arisen to confront them was the mighty Fate Joss from the temple of Je Ho!
CHAPTER V
MOVES IN THE NIGHT
CHICHESTER LAUDRING now stepped slowly forward. His move was mechanical; his outstretched hand was trembling. Satsu, awed, made an effort to stop his master. Laudring kept straight ahead; quivering, Satsu followed.
Reaching the Fate Joss, Laudring lifted his hand and placed it upon the statue’s arm. He quaked momentarily; then the touch of the cold bronze restored his nerve. Turning, he beckoned to Satsu. The Korean arrived and also touched the idol.
“What — how” — Laudring was faltering, hoarsely — “what could have brought the Fate Joss here? It — it was in Clabb’s vault, Satsu! You — you saw it there!”
“I did,” nodded Satsu, solemnly. “It was in the vault, Mr. Laudring. Yet it is there no longer; it is here — with us.”
“With us,” agreed Laudring. His tone became almost furious. “Come back again to trouble me; to bring new danger! Why did it come here? Why did it not return to the temple of Je Ho?”
Half fearful, half furious, Laudring was attributing full power to the Fate Joss. He had derided its legend, less than a half hour ago; but this startling discovery of the idol itself had weakened him to the point where he was ready to accept the belief of the superstitious coolies who had aided him in the theft of the Joss.
Beads of sweat adorned Laudring’s brow. The laugh that he forced was hollow. The sound of his own attempted mirth made Laudring tremble once again. Then, steadying, he stepped back and studied the leering idol.
“Yes,” declared Laudring, slowly, “it is the Fate Joss. It has returned to me, Satsu, yet I am not ready to yield to superstition. At first, my fear overpowered my reason; but I have no cause to dread a sculptured mass of bronze.
“After all, Satsu” — Laudring’s chuckle was more genuine than his laugh — “after all, we carried the Fate Joss thousands of miles. We brought it to America; it did not harm us on the way. Why should we fear it now?”
Satsu managed a grin.
“Come,” decided Laudring. “Let us go upstairs. It is more pleasant there, Satsu.”
They left the cellar to the glistening idol and the burnished cannons. Laudring turned out the light when they reached the top of the stairs. He locked the door and pocketed the key. Satsu followed his master into the parlor.
“Whew!” exclaimed Laudring, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief. “That was rather startling, Satsu — walking right in on the old Fate Joss itself, with his faithful War Dogs! It jolted me worse than the first time I saw them in the temple of Je Ho!
“We’ll have to talk this over, Satsu. We both know that those stories about the idol are the bunk. It can’t jump from Chicago to New York any more than it can fly back to Jehol. A smoke will help me out, Satsu.”
Laudring fumbled in his pocket for a cigar. Finding none, he arose from his chair and started for the stairs.
“I’ll get some panatelas from my bag,” he told Satsu. “Wait here until I return.”
AS Laudring’s footsteps faded on the stairway, Satsu stole swiftly from the parlor out into the back hall. He picked up the telephone and dialed a number. He gained a prompt response. Satsu spoke quickly, his voice low and tense.
“Doctor Tam? Good… This is Satsu… In New York. I had no time to write you, doctor. No, I had no chance to call… One moment, doctor. Let me tell you where I am…”
Satsu paused to listen. Hearing no sounds from upstairs, he placed his lips to the mouthpiece and carefully repeated the address of the house. That done, Satsu explained further.
“The house was given to Mr. Laudring,” he declared. “By his uncle… So he has told me; but maybe there is no such uncle… This is more important, doctor. The Fate Joss — it is here. In the cellar…
“Yes… Yes… I think he may listen, if I talk to him… Yes, Mr. Laudring did seem very surprised… Yes… I understand. I shall do as you have told… But if—”
Satsu paused abruptly. He could hear Laudring on the second floor. Hanging up the receiver, the Korean started for the library. He had delayed too long, however, for he encountered Laudring at the bottom of the stairs.
“Where were you, Satsu?” demanded Laudring, suspiciousness in his gaze. “I told you to remain in the parlor.”
“I was in the kitchen, sir,” returned the servant. “Looking to find if food was there.”
“I thought I heard your voice.”
“I was humming, sir, as I often do.”
Laudring paused, puffing a freshly lighted cigar. He decided to take the servant’s explanation. He waved Satsu into the parlor; following the fellow, Laudring resumed his easy chair.
“I don’t want the Fate Joss,” he asserted, in a troubled tone. “What am I going to do about it, Satsu?”
“You could leave this place, sir,” replied the Korean. “The Fate Joss could remain.”
“But the house is mine.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“That’s a point, Satsu. Maybe it isn’t my house at all. I never knew I had an Uncle Felix. I never heard of this lawyer chap, Boford. I’ve a mind to dig out of the place.”
“That would be wise, Mr. Laudring.”
Laudring considered plans; then nodded slowly.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he decided. “Tomorrow we can leave. We’ll never open the boarded windows. That’s settled, Satsu. But if Boford should come here—”
Laudring broke off, startled by an unexpected sound. A bell had begun to clang. Someone was at the front door. Laudring stared at Satsu; the servant shook his head.
“We won’t answer it,” decided Laudring. “Whoever it is will go away.” The bell clanged anew.
“Persistent beggar,” remarked Laudring, nervously. “Maybe he saw a glimmer of the lights. Perhaps — ah! I have it! Our visitor must be Boford. Answer the door, Satsu.”
THE Korean hesitated. Laudring gestured impatiently, as the bell jangled a third summons. Satsu went to the front door and unlocked it; Laudring, coming from the parlor, was just in time to see the servant admit a sallow-faced man, whose pointed mustache and dapper manner gave him a harmless air.