The Shadow!
The thought made Spotter gasp. He wanted to drop out of sight; but his muscles refused to act.
Why didn’t the Chinese guardian turn? Spotter’s throat lumped. He could not even ejaculate a warning.
The back of The Shadow was toward him. Spotter had a gun in the pocket of his ragged coat that lay across the foot of the bunk. But he was paralyzed with fear. He could not move.
Could this be real? The Shadow had not come through the door that was the entrance to the den. How had the mysterious being of the night entered this place?
Spotter trembled. He began to believe that his imagination was at work; that the whiffs of opium had made him the victim of strange hallucinations.
Spotter’s dry lips now formed a mirthless smile. The guard was turning. He would see The Shadow!
But, no — as the Chinaman swung away from the door, he moved in the wrong direction. The Shadow, divining his move, slipped to one side.
He was still behind the Celestial’s back. The guard did not detect his presence.
The Chinaman moved along the floor, peering right and left at the curtained bunks. Behind him followed The Shadow, a grotesque, batlike figure, whose sinister shape seemed like a solid chunk carved out of jet-black night.
Spotter’s eyes were peering through a tiny crack between the curtains of his bunk. He saw the Chinese guard go to the other end of the room, evidently on a tour of inspection. The Oriental stopped at the wall.
Now he must turn! Now he would see The Shadow!
But Spotter was doomed to disappointment. The black shape suddenly shifted to the left. It faded between the curtains of an unoccupied bunk, half a second before the Chinese guard turned to come back.
Spotter gave a low, hissing whistle. It quavered between his chattering teeth. The Chinaman stopped and bent low beside the bunk to hear what Spotter might have to say.
“The Shadow!” quavered Spotter. “The Shadow!”
The Chinaman looked at him with solemn, unchanging eyes.
“It ain’t the dope!” whispered Spotter. “I ain’t been hittin’ the pipe. Listen, chink. The Shadow is here! Tell Loo Look. You savvy? The Shadow is here.”
The guard shrugged his shoulders.
He had seen many men delirious from the effects of the drug which Loo Look purveyed. This fellow appeared to be another one of them.
“Tell Loo Look.” Spotter’s final whisper was urgent. “The Shadow is here — in this room!”
The wiry Chinaman looked about him.
“Where?” he questioned.
“In a bunk. Next to the last one on the other side. Tell Loo Look. Quick!”
The Celestial moved away. He did not believe Spotter. The man talked of a shadow. That was the way the opium pipe worked. It made victims see shadows.
What shadow could have been seen from the bunk? How could it have escaped his watchful eyes? Such were the Chinaman’s thoughts.
Yet the urgency of Spotter’s request carried an impression. He had said to tell Loo Look.
It was not the guard’s duty to carry messages to his master from the frenzied minds that occupied the bunks. They all had strange thoughts, these fellows who smoked pipes. Spotter, however, had spoken the name of Loo Look, and Spotter had not been in the bunk very long. Perhaps this was important.
The wiry Chinese moved along the center of the room until he reached the paneled wall beside the door. Here he raised his hand and pressed a molding. But he did not perform this action until he had cast a watchful eye down the center corridor. Spotter was no longer watching. The little gangster had dropped exhausted in his bunk.
The panel slid upward into the wall, revealing the entrance of a narrow passage. The guard held the panel with his hand, as he started to step through. Evidently it dropped automatically. This was the way to Loo Look’s private sanctum.
But the Chinaman changed his mind with suddenness. He stepped back into the room and released the panel. It slid downward to its former position. The man had decided to investigate Spotter’s claim before going to Loo Look.
Back he came to the bunk where Spotter lay. He spread the curtains slightly and shook the little gangster. Spotter stared with wild eyes.
“Which bunkee you say Shadow in?”
As the Celestial spoke, a black form emerged from the bunk at the end of the room. It moved directly along the center of the room. It was soundless as it passed the guard, who was stooping over Spotter.
The Chinaman did not detect the presence of this phantom shape. Nor did Spotter see it. The guard’s body was in front of his eyes.
“Next to last — other side of the room — other end!” gasped Spotter.
The Chinaman moved away. The Shadow had scarcely passed him; but the guard turned toward the end of the room from which the strange personage had come; and hence did not see him.
But Spotter did. Through some instinct, the little gangster looked toward the entrance instead of following the course taken by the guard.
A huge, black form was standing beside the door. A gloved hand came from the dark cloak. On one finger glowed a large gem that seemed like the crimson eye of a Stygian monster.
It pressed the molding. A panel slid upward to reveal a gaping hole. Into the opening stepped The Shadow.
From the bunk in which he had lain hidden, he had seen the action of the Chinese guard. He had learned the way to Loo Look’s lair!
Spotter leaned from his bunk. The guard was at the other end of the room, peering between curtains at the spot where The Shadow had lain in hiding.
“Quick!” hissed Spotter. “He’s here — up by the wall!”
The Chinaman turned an instant too late. The secret panel had slipped shut, noiselessly. The Shadow was gone.
The Celestial came back to Spotter’s bunk and stared at the little gangster with flashing eyes.
“No one there,” he said. “You hittee pipe too much.”
“There,” gasped Spotter, pointing toward the entrance. “There. He went there.”
The Chinaman shot out a thin hand and pushed Spotter back into his bunk.
“You see things,” he said. “See crazy things. You keepee quiet. No talkee.”
Spotter was unnerved. He was unable to rise. He tried to gasp out further words. But the guard clapped a hand upon his mouth, and stifled his lips.
Spotter became silent. He took a whiff of the pipe in desperation. The puff choked him. He lay coughing, and gasping, afraid to move.
Somehow, The Shadow had entered this den unseen and unmolested. Now the strange being had passed the inner guard, and had gone into a dark, mysterious passage.
Where it led, Spotter did not know. His one fear was that The Shadow would return.
What would happen then?
CHAPTER XXV
TRAP FOR THE SHADOW
Spotter had believed that there were only three entrances to Loo Look’s underground den. He knew that three passages merged in front of the door of the innermost room. He had used all three entrances on different occasions. Each was guarded by two strong Chinese attendants.
But there was a fourth entrance to the place — and two men alone knew of its existence. One was Loo Look; the other was Tiger Bronson.
The secret entrance came from a house across the street. When either Loo Look or Tiger Bronson wished to enter the opium den, they used the secret way. The house across the street was deserted. The two men who used it each had a key to the side door.
When one of them entered the house, he went to the cellar and found an opening which led to the den where Spotter now lay. The passage terminated in an unused bunk. From this, Loo Look or Tiger Bronson would emerge or disappear.