Goodall had been waiting for his friend Beecham. He had seemed in good spirits; in fact, he had been seen chatting with another club member. Casually, Burke had learned the name of Goodall’s temporary companion.
Hugo Urvin!
That young man had come to the Union Club after his early departure from Barton Schofield’s mansion.
This was one who might well be the secret representative of Kwa.
No detail escaped The Shadow’s keen consideration. The envelope which he, as Lamont Cranston, had plucked from the floor at the Union Club was a significant point in solving the present situation.
Hugo Urvin had talked with Blaine Goodall, and had learned the man’s plans. That must have occurred between half past ten and half past eleven. Within that short period, a gang of Chinese slayers had been sent forward in two cars to intercept Goodall on his trip to Trenton.
The inference? To The Shadow there could be but one. Hugo Urvin had established quick contact with Kwa.
With further crime impending, new contact would be necessary. The Shadow, by many lesser clews, had gained the one he wanted. Through Hugo Urvin, he could find the way to the secret abode of the Living Joss!
ONCE again, The Shadow studied the list of names which he had written. Three remained of the five who had met at Barton Schofield’s. The weary old banker; the largemouthed stock manipulator; the suave physician.
One, Barton Schofield, was opposed by the other two. At the same time, David Moultrie and Ward Zelka, while they had united through circumstance, might each be engaged in individual activity.
Briefly, The Shadow wrote instructions, and sealed each order in a separate envelope. One to Clyde Burke, to keep watch on David Moultrie. The other to Harry Vincent, whose duty would be to observe Doctor Ward Zelka.
Barton Schofield remained to The Shadow. The old banker, with Hartnett and Goodall gone, was no longer associated with conservative men; yet The Shadow held no worry for Schofield’s present safety.
Kwa had been at the banker’s home last night; but Kwa had been watching Westley Hartnett, whose life was even then in the balance. Nothing had happened to Barton Schofield. Nothing would happen, until Kwa’s reporting agent had again delivered information or received instructions.
The present situation involved two personalities. Kwa, the Living Joss, was one. Barton Schofield, the retired banker, was the other. The link between was probably Hugo Urvin. There, at the weak point, The Shadow would strike first.
The light clicked out above the polished table. The room became a mass of solid blackness. This was The Shadow’s sanctum, the uncanny abode which only the master frequented. A laugh rippled through the stillness. Its wavering echoes came back in whispered merriment.
The Shadow was gone. He had departed from this room where darkness reigned. His new quest had begun. He was seeking the direct route to Kwa, the Living Joss!
The Shadow’s clews were many; among them, the one of Hugo Urvin was the only link which The Shadow needed!
CHAPTER XIV. THE SHADOW LEARNS
THE bright lights of Broadway were aglow. It was early evening in Manhattan, and the dancing glare of Times Square was luring pleasure-seekers. At Forty-seventh and Broadway, a barker was crying forth the advantages of a trip to Chinatown.
Hugo Urvin, nattily dressed and sporting a new cane, lingered beside the filling bus. He drew a half dollar from his vest pocket, and tendered it to the barker. He received a ticket and stepped aboard the bus.
A few minutes later, another customer approached the barker, and also paid a half dollar. This man was a tall, calm-faced individual, who appeared quite inconspicuous despite the keenness of his hawklike features. He entered the sightseeing bus, and took a seat in back of Hugo Urvin.
The Shadow was on the trail of his quarry. He had picked up Urvin’s course outside of the apartment house where the young man lived. Already, he had discovered the simple but ingenious way in which Urvin paid his secret visits to the Chinese district.
Had Urvin been one of those New Yorkers who make their Chinatown trips as individual excursions, The Shadow would long since have learned his identity. The master of detection had spent long periods of observation in the streets of Chinatown.
But as a sightseer on a bus — one of those many visitors to Manhattan who nightly go in herds to see the Chinese district — that policy had enabled Hugo Urvin to conceal his visits to the shrine controlled by Chon Look.
The big bus rolled down Broadway. Half an hour later, it stopped on a dingy thoroughfare, and the guide ordered the passengers to alight. The group moved along, most persons herding close to their fellows, anticipating adventure.
The sight of uniformed policemen patrolling this district as a regular beat did not dispel the enthusiasm of the crowd. The guide’s build-up of the lurking dangers to be found in Chinatown was sufficient to preserve the awe which these visitors had gained.
Ablaze with light, the corner of Mott and Pell glimmered ahead. Most of the sightseers were taking in the curious sights about them, when the guide turned his charges down the side alley toward the Buddhist shrine.
Two persons in the crowd followed with leisurely indifference. One was Hugo Urvin; the other was the hawk-faced man who watched him.
Unconscious of the eyes which took this interest in his affairs, Urvin swirled his cane and strolled through the doorway with the group of visitors.
CHON LOOK and the Chinese girls bowed solemnly when the crowd came in. With his singsong English, the keeper of the Buddhist shrine began to explain the purposes of prayer papers and wishing sticks. Hugo Urvin glanced curiously at the wishing sticks after Chon Look had laid them aside; but tonight the young man had no envelope.
This would have been a clew to the quiet individual, who was watching. Unfortunately, the clew was lacking. Nevertheless, The Shadow did not relax his vigil. The lecture terminated. The visitors departed, and, on the way, each received a wrapped package. Chon Look blandly handed one to Hugo Urvin; another to the calm-faced man who followed him.
The trip through Chinatown continued. At last, the visitors again reached the bus. But in that trip, the eyes of The Shadow had noted a significant fact. From the time that he had left the shrine governed by Chon Look, Hugo Urvin had displayed a marked impatience that he had been unable to conceal!
Forty-seventh and Broadway. The passengers alighted. Hugo Urvin entered the subway. The calm-faced man still followed him, but when the pair entered an uptown local, Hugo Urvin, glancing about, saw no one watching him.
His hand in the pocket of his overcoat, Urvin fumbled with the package that he held there. He knew that it contained funds; and he was anticipative of the reward that he was to find there.
Hugo Urvin smiled cunningly. He had served Kwa well!
Urvin’s apartment house was but a short distance from the subway station where the young man alighted.
Swinging his cane with his right hand, clutching the pocketed package with his left, Urvin walked quickly toward his destination.
There was one, however, who moved with greater swiftness. It was obvious, as soon as Urvin had left the subway train, that he intended to go back to his apartment. A tall man had gone up the stairs ahead of Urvin; on the side street, this individual had stepped into a parked coupe.
Scarcely had Urvin passed that car before a figure glided from the door. A shape of blackness, an outlined form garbed in flowing cloak and slouch hat, The Shadow had replaced the hawk-faced man who had trailed Urvin.
A blotch of darkness moved along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. It crossed a hundred feet ahead of Urvin. The man with the cane did not observe that phantom shape as it glided into the vestibule of the apartment house.