The lock of the inner door clicked. The mysterious personage entered the hallway. The door closed and locked three full seconds before Hugo Urvin made his appearance. There was no trace of the invisible phantom when Urvin crossed the hallway.
Up in the elevator; to his own apartment. Urvin opened the door and chuckled. He strode to a corner and lighted a table lamp. With eager hands, he removed the wrapping from the package. A crisp stack of rolled bills came into his grasp.
URVIN set a little green jade elephant upon the table beside the rice-paper wrappings. With a hearty chuckle, he counted the hundred-dollar bills. Twelve of them tonight — a suitable reward from Kwa, the Living Joss. Urvin crinkled the currency and shoved it deep into his pocket. He smiled in new satisfaction.
Then, with new anticipation, he picked up the wrapping paper. The layered sheet came between him and the light. Urvin looked at it with satisfaction. These messages from Kwa were clever. No one could possibly detect the faded writing that lay within.
Something moved from the darkness between Hugo Urvin’s back and the wall. The young man did not detect either sound or noise, for both were absent. In fact, no living form could possibly have been seen.
The motion seemed like a shift of massed gloom.
The one manifestation of a living personage was the presence of a pair of glowing eyes. Their gaze, like that of Hugo Urvin, was directed toward the sheet of wrapping paper. As Urvin carefully peeled the layers apart, the eyes of The Shadow saw the important action.
Urvin laid the blank portion upon the table. He studied the other sheet, and carefully read the instructions that appeared there. So engrossed was he that he did not sense the approach of a looming form that closed behind him like an enveloping blanket of darkness.
A strange scene! Hugo Urvin perusing the paper by the light of the lamp, with the living shroud above him — a shape which blotted out the penetrating rays of the lamp, and held the remainder of the room in sepulchral darkness.
Every word that Urvin read was seen by The Shadow also; yet the unmoving form of blackness never betrayed its presence.
As Urvin smiled in understanding of the new instructions, the shape behind him faded toward the wall.
The rice paper fluttered to the table.
Urvin, now sensing danger for the first time, swung on his heel and stared toward the darkness of a farther corner.
Had something moved there?
For a moment, Urvin fancied that he had detected a shift in the gloom. The table lamp did not provide sufficient light. Urvin turned toward the switch at the door of the room.
At that instant, the sheet of rice paper flared. Used though he was to this phenomenon, Urvin was momentarily startled. He had forgotten about Kwa’s message. Since the first one had taken care of itself, Urvin merely laid each succeeding one aside when he had finished reading it.
With a forced laugh, the young man went to the door of the room. But in that interval, in which his eyes had instinctively turned toward the burning message, a change had occurred in the darkened corner.
Gliding from the spot, The Shadow had gained the open door of another room. As Urvin pressed the light switch, the tall figure faded like a vanishing ghost. Urvin, looking to the corner, saw only the blank wall, plainly visible in the glare of the ceiling lights which the switch had illuminated.
Crumpling the useless section of the rice paper, Urvin threw it into a wastebasket. He placed the green jade elephant upon the bookcase, along with the three wise monkeys and other souvenirs of his visits to the Buddhist shrine in Chinatown.
THIS newest curio annoyed Urvin. He had a superstition that elephants were bad luck. His nerves seemed somewhat on edge.
There was a reason. Urvin knew well that he had definitely brought death to two men: Westley Hartnett and Blaine Goodall. It was not likely that he would ever be implicated in the murders; the work that he had done had required no drastic action.
Nevertheless, Urvin was squeamish. As a crook, he was of a petty class. Lack of real nerve — not the burden of a conscience — was the cause of Urvin’s worriment. Here, alone, the man began to feel ill at ease. He pulled the twelve hundred dollars from his pocket, then thrust it away again.
Kwa’s service paid well. It was too good to leave. There was no turning now. With another forced laugh, Urvin strode from his apartment. He wanted bright lights, fun at a night club, any form of artificial delight that would ease his mind.
For another task lay ahead — a new appointment in the service of Kwa. Like the others, it would be easy.
Urvin nerved himself with the thought that he would not have to act until tomorrow night.
After all, no one could know of his connection with Kwa! No one could know what the Living Joss now required.
In this thought, Hugo Urvin was mistaken. When the door of the apartment had closed behind him, the form of The Shadow emerged from the inner room. Urvin had left the table lamp gleaming. Near the illumination, The Shadow formed a weird shape that cast a long, sinister silhouette across the floor.
A whispered laugh shuddered from hidden lips. Uncanny mockery came in a triumphant tone. What Hugo Urvin knew, The Shadow knew. The next stroke planned by Kwa had been revealed to this sinister specter whose mighty arm was ready to strike down the evil foe.
Tomorrow night!
Another deed of crime was impending. Hugo Urvin was to play but a minor part. Others would be there to do the real evil. One of last night’s murderers — both, perhaps — would be called upon for another fiendish stroke.
This time, The Shadow was prepared. He was ready to thwart the schemes of Kwa. The Shadow had learned the cunning ways of Kwa.
The Shadow knew!
CHAPTER XV. THE NEXT NIGHT
AT eight o’clock the next evening, Hugo Urvin arrived at the home of Barton Schofield. He had come here for a party which had been scheduled some time previous. Maxine Schofield, when she extended invitations, invariably arranged for more than one event at a time.
Thus Urvin, when he had attended the dance two nights ago, had also known that he was coming here tonight. He had informed Kwa of both these social engagements, which had been in keeping with instructions in one of the notes.
Two nights ago, Urvin had performed no duty here, even though Westley Hartnett had been present; but this evening, Kwa’s spying henchman was acting under new instructions. His task was to watch none other than Barton Schofield.
Urvin began his operations as soon as he had entered the house. While Maxine was greeting him in the hallway, Urvin managed to glance through the door that led to the sun porch. There he saw the old banker seated in a comfortable chair, drowsily awaiting his bedtime hour.
Hugo Urvin accompanied Maxine into the dance room. From now on, it would be easy to keep tabs upon Schofield’s actions. All that Urvin awaited was the time when the old man went upstairs.
But, as he was walking with Maxine, Urvin happened to glance back into the hallway to see two strangers coming through the front door.
One was a tall young man with a long, solemn face; the other was a stocky, swarthy individual, whose countenance was grim and determined. They were not guests of Maxine’s, Urvin knew. He noted that a servant was conducting them to the sun porch.
“Who are those persons?” Urvin asked Maxine.
“Men to see grandfather,” replied the girl. “The tall one is George Cubitt. He works in Mr. Hartnett’s law office. You heard about our lawyer, didn’t you?”
“You mean Westley Hartnett?”
“Yes. It was terrible! He was killed the night before last, after he had gone home from here. Think of that! It was a terrible blow to grandfather.”