“Spark can post one man at a telephone near the trap,” explained Malfort. “Barthow can call there, if Furbish appears. Spark and his outfit can get back to the Maribar in less than fifteen minutes. If Furbish calls on Rowden, he will doubtless remain longer than a quarter hour. Our plans remain the same, so far as Furbish is concerned.”
WITH a wave of his hand, Malfort dismissed the conference. As his companions departed from the room, the master crook warmed his hands before the open fire and chuckled his evil elation. Despite the thoroughness of his schemes for murder, Malfort had encountered opposition from The Shadow; that fact, however, did not disturb this genius of evil.
Long since, Malfort had designed his trap in case The Shadow should prove a threat against his game. The trap was ready – with Ku-Nuan as the bait. The Mongol, moreover, would see that the trap was set.
After tomorrow evening, Malfort was convinced, there would be no more trouble from The Shadow.
CHAPTER X – INTO THE SNARE
“EACH side of the square is a wall. The openings are passages.”
Almost word for word, the statement was Malfort’s; the diagram that a pointing finger indicated was identical with the one that the supercrook had drawn.
The speaker, however, was not Malfort; nor was the pointing hand his. The slow, careful words were delivered by Yat Soon; the finger that touched the lines of the square belonged to the distinguished Chinese arbiter.
Yat Soon was in his reception room. Opposite him, cloaked in black, sat The Shadow. Hours had passed since Malfort had discussed his plans. It was late the next afternoon.
“At four o’clock today,” declared Yat Soon, solemnly, “Ku-Nuan was seen in Chinatown. That is why I dispatched my request that you come here. Meanwhile, my men followed Ku-Nuan and brought back word of his whereabouts.”
Yat Soon made a penciled mark – an arrow that indicated the chief entrance of the trap.
“This was where Ku-Nuan went. He did not reappear. My men found the other passages. They entered the courtyard. There was no sign of Ku-Nuan.
“It is possible that he slipped swiftly away. But it is more probable, Ying Ko, that he came through the far passage and stopped by a door near its outlet. Had he entered that door and barred it after him, he could be within the house that has a window on its second floor.”
Yat Soon indicated the far wall of the trap. He unfolded a sheet of rice paper that bore characters in Chinese and passed it to The Shadow, who read the legend as easily as if it had been in English.
The text was a description given by one of Yat Soon’s competent men. It told of three blank walls within the courtyard; also of a fourth, with solid shuttered windows on its ground floor, an unbarred window on the second.
Yat Soon’s Chinese informant had left no detail uncovered. His description of projecting shutters; his figures, with exact dimensions as to width of windows, their height above the ground – these gave The Shadow a perfect picture of the courtyard.
Laying the paper aside, The Shadow spoke words in Chinese. Yat Soon nodded solemnly.
“I share your opinion, Ying Ko,” announced the arbiter. “The upper window could well serve Ku-Nuan. From that spot he could hurl a knife, much as he did one night ago. There would be no post to protect you.
“You are correct also when you state that all will surely be dark within that courtyard. My searchers found no trace of lights. Ku-Nuan, like yourself, would require darkness. Nevertheless, Ying Ko, I fear a snare. It would be wise if my chosen men accompanied you tonight.”
The Shadow voiced a statement in Chinese. Yat Soon smiled blandly. “You have spoken wisely, Ying Ko,” commended the arbiter. “You have said that where danger lurks, one may venture what many would not dare. I shall order my men to depart at dusk. The trap will remain unwatched.
“Enemies will then be seized by doubt. Impatient, they may reveal themselves before you arrive. Unless the enemy is Ku-Nuan alone. In that case, the absence of others will prove the fact.”
The Shadow had risen. Yat Soon stood up and bowed.
“I had forgotten that you must be elsewhere,” declared Yat Soon. “We have spoken all that must be said. More words would delay your present mission.”
THE SHADOW departed through the labyrinth of passages. Reaching the darkened street that led to Chinatown, he moved away, enshrouded in gathering dusk. Beneath an elevated railway, where gloom had come early, The Shadow boarded a taxicab and spoke an order to the driver.
Cutting across Manhattan, the cab reached the water front along the Hudson River. Here, buildings no longer blocked the afterglow that came from beyond the New Jersey hills. Though lights were glimmering from cars and street lamps, there were sufficient rays of sunset to reveal the face at the rear window of the cab.
The Shadow had removed his garb of black. He was wearing the guise in which he had visited Major Rowden the quiet, pleasant features of Henry Arnaud.
The cab wheeled to a stop beside a steamship pier. The Shadow alighted and watched a liner as it warped into the dock. A gangplank dropped; passengers streamed into view, to be met by customs officers who stood beneath the pier lights.
The ship was from Bermuda. Customs formalities would be short. The Shadow watched a small group of persons whose baggage was being examined beneath a huge placard that bore the letter “F.” He saw a portly, round-faced man who was joking with a customs officer. He was the one who answered The Shadow’s pictured description of George Furbish.
Soon a hand truck came lumbering from the pier, pushed by a dock attendant. It held two suitcases and a steamer trunk. Furbish accompanied the truck; he ordered it to the baggage room. As he stood by the counter, Furbish heard a voice speak his name. He turned about, surprised; he saw the disguised features of The Shadow.
“My name is Arnaud.” The Shadow extended a hand as he spoke. Then, in an undertone, he added: “I come from Major Rowden.”
Furbish nodded, alert, quietly, The Shadow ordered:
“Leave your baggage here. Come with me.”
Trustfully, Furbish followed The Shadow to the cab. They entered; The Shadow spoke an order in Arnaud’s tone to the driver. As they rode along, The Shadow made inquiry.
“Tell me about the money. Is it available, so that you can complete your transaction tonight?”
Furbish nodded. Unsuspecting that his life had been in danger, he was quite willing to trust the emissary from Rowden. It seemed quite natural that the major should have sent some one to meet him at the pier.
“I have the money at my bank,” he stated. “It is in a safe deposit box; the vaults are available until nine o’clock. Does Major Rowden wish to make the sale tonight?”
“Possibly,” replied The Shadow. “That, however, depends upon certain circumstances. Suppose we dine together, Mr. Furbish. After that, you can obtain the funds.”
THE cab arrived at a secluded restaurant. During dinner, Furbish became more and more impressed by his new friend, Arnaud. It was when they had finished the meal that The Shadow quietly broached the matter of danger.
“Two nights ago,” he stated, quietly, “an assassin sought your life at the Royal Arms, thinking that you would have the funds there with you.”
Furbish gaped; then exclaimed: “But I was not at the Royal Arms!”
“I was there,” returned The Shadow, with a slight smile. “I thwarted the attempt. Your enemies have decided to cover the Maribar Hotel, expecting your arrival there.”
“Then if I go there tonight -”
“You will be protected. You must, however, follow instructions as I give them.”
Furbish nodded his agreement. Reflecting, he decided that if this new friend could have thwarted a killer at the Royal Arms, he could certainly provide protection at the Maribar Hotel.
“A cab waits you outside this restaurant,” explained The Shadow. “Take it. Go to your bank and obtain the quarter million dollars that you placed in safe deposit.”