Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 081 - The Fate Joss

VIP免费
2024-12-23 0 0 241.07KB 95 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
THE FATE JOSS
Maxwell Grant
This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
? CHAPTER I. THE SHADOW'S QUEST
? CHAPTER II. SEEKERS OF THE JOSS
? CHAPTER III. DOCTOR ROY TAM
? CHAPTER IV. THE MIGHTY JOSS
? CHAPTER V. MOVES IN THE NIGHT
? CHAPTER VI. MURDER AT MIDNIGHT
? CHAPTER VII. THE JOSS RETURNS
? CHAPTER VIII. ONE HALF HOUR
? CHAPTER IX. THE VANISHED JOSS
? CHAPTER X. THE GUARDED JOSS
? CHAPTER XI. YAT SOON LEARNS
? CHAPTER XII. THE CRAFT OF DOCTOR TAM
? CHAPTER XIII. BROUGHT FROM BONDAGE
? CHAPTER XIV. THE LOOKOUT POST
? CHAPTER XV. THE MANDARIN'S GUESTS
? CHAPTER XVI. THE SHADOW'S RETURN
? CHAPTER XVII. THE SHADOW INVADES
? CHAPTER XVIII. THE ALLIANCE
? CHAPTER XIX. THE SHADOW'S TRICK
? CHAPTER XX. THE LAST GUEST
? CHAPTER XXI. THE SHADOW'S TEST
? CHAPTER XXII. WITHIN THE TEMPLE
? CHAPTER XXIII. THE JOSS CULT MEETS
? CHAPTER XXIV. THE SHADOW DECREES
CHAPTER I. THE SHADOW'S QUEST
CHINATOWN'S lights were aglow. Beneath the sultry night they formed an exotic glare throughout this
bizarre section of Manhattan. A city within a city, Chinatown was a splash of Oriental splendor centered
within drab surroundings.
Blobbed blackness fringed the Chinese quarter. To those who approached Chinatown's center, there
were darkened stretches to be passed through, secluded thoroughfares that gave no indication of the
brilliance that lay ahead.
To ordinary visitors, those outlying regions offered no significance; but to those who knew the ways of
Chinatown, the fringing borders were important. They were like the suburbs of a miniature metropolis.
Though they seemed no part of Chinatown, they were actually inhabited by quiet, retiring Celestials, the
overflow of those who dwelt in the quarter itself.
Blackened windows above obscure thoroughfares. Any one of those casements might be a lookout spot
for spying eyes. On many nights; passers might traverse these streets unnoticed; but on this sultry evening,
slanty eyes were sure to be on observation duty.
For Chinatown had begun to seethe beneath its surface of placidity. It had become an area of rumor,
wherein cautious voices babbled their high-pitched dialects. Mystery was afoot; and those who talked of
it were wise to confide only in their closest associates.
Blackness enshrouded in blackness. Such was the weird figure that moved along the gloomy sidewalk of
a side street. Bound toward Chinatown, this weird figure clung close to the darkened fronts of houses
that were seemingly deserted. If there were eyes above, they did not see this being of blackness.
That stalking form was the cloaked figure of The Shadow.
Chinatown was one of The Shadow's habitats. He knew its ways; its people; he had friends amid the
dwellers in that district. The rumors that irked Mongol minds had reached The Shadow's ears. Because
of those reports, he had chosen to keep his visit secret.
The Shadow's course was swift despite his caution. His gliding pace slackened, however, as he reached
a turn in the narrow street. As he passed that point, The Shadow could see the glow of the central
district. He was almost within sight of the corner of Mott and Pell— the Times Square of Chinatown.
Pausing, The Shadow gazed keenly along the street ahead. He watched strolling figures pass from view.
He eyed windows above; satisfied that they were unoccupied, he glided into momentary view, moving
straight toward a row of lighted shops that lined the intervening stretch between this point and the lighted
district. Almost at the first shop, The Shadow turned suddenly. His cloaked form blended with the
blackness of an alleyway.
There was a single shop just off the street; an obscure store that seemed to have been crowded into the
alleyway through lack of a better location. It was a place that could hardly hope for business; for its
display windows were but dimly lighted and the shop's lone door looked uninviting.
The Shadow could easily have passed that one store unobserved. Instead, he turned and entered the
shop itself.
A LONE Celestial was seated at a table in the corner. He was occupied with an account book and his
form was almost out of sight behind a counter laden with Oriental curies. The Chinaman did not hear The
Shadow's entry; nor did the visitor seek to make him aware of it. Instead, The Shadow glided past the
counter and stopped before a paneled wall near the rear of the shop.
He pressed a hidden spring. The panel opened. The cloaked figure joined the blackness beyond the
opening and the wall slid shut. The watchdog at the desk had failed to detect The Shadow's arrival.
Mazelike passages formed a labyrinth ahead. The Shadow followed corridors down steps and up; he
was guided by dim ceiling lights that shone at intervals. At times, he paused to listen to the rhythmic tramp
of guards; when those had faded he went onward.
There were various passages to be chosen; there were metal barriers that blocked the way. The Shadow
knew which paths to choose; he also understood the secrets of the doorways. Panels opened at his
pressure; when he had passed the final one, The Shadow stood in a square room, where paneled walls
were visible amid soft light.
Instantly, a panel arose at the rear of the room. A voice spoke melodiously. The Shadow heard the
welcome and entered an inner chamber. There, amid Oriental surroundings, sat a placid-faced Chinaman,
clad in maroon robes so dark in hue that they were almost as The Shadow's black.
The panel dropped immediately after The Shadow's entrance. The visitor from the night was in the
presence of Yat Soon, the arbiter of Chinatown.
Old friends: The Shadow and Yat Soon. Both believed in justice; each had his way of gaining it. The
Shadow, by open battle against men of crime; Yat Soon, through judicial decisions that he rendered to
disputing factions within the borders of Chinese influence.
Evidently Yat Soon had expected this black-cloaked visitor; for the arbiter's greeting, delivered in perfect
English, was one of quiet dignity. Viewing The Shadow, Yat Soon could see no features other than a pair
of gleaming eyes, for The Shadow's hat brim obscured the upper portion of his visage, while the folds of
his cloak collar covered his chin.
Yat Soon, however, was accustomed to see this visitor garbed in such fashion. He expressed no
curiosity.
Instead, he bowed profoundly as The Shadow spoke in reply. Uttering words in the Chinese tongue, The
Shadow was returning salutations. His voice continued in singsong fashion, as he explained the purpose
of his visit. From beneath his cloak, he drew forth a folded sheet of rice paper; with gloved hand, he
extended it to Yat Soon.
Soberly, the arbiter read a message that consisted entirely of Chinese characters. His perusal ended, Yat
Soon spoke.
"HONORED friend," he said, in English, "you tell me that this letter has reached you through the Chinese
general, Cho Tsing. We were friends in China, Cho Tsing and I, in the days when he was governor of the
ancient province of Jehol.
"It is apparent that you are his friend as well. You, whom he addresses as Ying Ko, which means The
Shadow. For he requests that you regain the Fate Joss that was stolen from the temple of Je Ho. As Cho
Tsing had said, that ancient temple has long been closed. It would be well, could he reopen it for those
who have made such request. But without the Fate Joss, he cannot do so. There are those who would
believe that Cho Tsing himself had stolen the Fate Joss."
A pause. The Shadow put a question in Chinese. Yat Soon nodded and spoke blandly.
"Many Chinese," he stated, "have heard it said that the Fate Joss is here in America. That is why they
speak among themselves, those whom you may pass upon the street. They say: 'The Fate Joss is
powerful; the Fate Joss can be carried nowhere against his own will'; that, indeed, is their belief."
Once more, The Shadow spoke. Yat Soon listened to a statement; then repeated it in English as he gave
his explanation:
"You say that the Fate Joss has been stolen from China," remarked the arbiter. "It is true that the Fate
Joss has been removed from the temple of Je Ho and brought to America. But the man who took it—
whether bad or good—was but an instrument of the Joss itself.
"That, honored friend, is the belief. It may seem strange, perhaps, to believe that a huge statue of bronze
and gold can will its own destiny, yet those who honor the Fate Joss do so believe. I, as an arbiter, can
do no more than concede to their wishes in this case."
The Shadow spoke. Yat Soon showed the slightest flicker of a smile. The Chinaman bowed his head in
agreement.
"What you have said is true," declared Yat Soon. "Should you gain possession of the Fate Joss and
return it to General Cho Tsing, you would have my full approval. I, Yat Soon the arbiter, would then
declare that you, The Shadow, had been an instrument in its return.
"There are others, however, who may seek to gain the Fate Joss. Should they do so, I can not dispute
their possession. As with you, honored friend, I would be forced to say that they were instruments of the
Joss.
"No one can steal the Fate Joss. It may be carried from one place to another. Money may be paid for its
possession; but the belief will still remain that the Joss has power to go where it may choose.
"Should strife begin because of the Fate Joss; should men do actual evil, murdering those who stand in
their path, then I, as arbiter, can denounce them for their crimes. Until such time, however, I can decide
only that he who holds the Fate Joss is entitled to its possession.
"Yat Soon has spoken."
THE Chinaman's final sentence was like a formal signature. The Shadow's eyes were keen as they
surveyed the arbiter's bland face. Yat Soon's words were fully understandable to the spectral visitor.
Should The Shadow choose to take up the quest of the Fate Joss, he would have Yat Soon's full
approval. That was the first point that he had come here to gain. The Shadow knew that all Chinatown
was agog; that talk of the Fate Joss had swept to outlying districts of New York, wherever isolated
Chinese dwelt.
His purpose, therefore, was twofold. Not only did he wish to return the Fate Joss to China, as a favor to
General Cho Tsing. The Shadow desired also to remove from New York an object that might cause the
very crimes of which Yat Soon had spoken.
Well did The Shadow know that affairs in Chinatown might often produce reactions elsewhere. He was
willing to accept the task of anticipating chaos that might soon be due. The Shadow knew that Yat Soon,
with all his blandness, would welcome such measures.
In fact, Yat Soon began to speak again, now that his decision had been rendered. His duty as arbiter
finished, he was anxious to provide The Shadow with whatever information he could. Carefully, Yat
Soon studied the letter that The Shadow had shown him; then made his new comment.
"It has been told to me," he said, "that the Fate Joss was brought to America by a man named Chichester
Laudring. This man was seen in San Francisco; then in Chicago. Since that time, none have brought word
concerning where he may be.
"Not long ago, another American came here to Chinatown. His name, so I have learned, is Raymond
Roucard. Thrice did he make inquiry of different merchants, asking them to name those of their people
who might wish to possess the Fate Joss.
"I do not know what replies Roucard received. It was told to me that the man has lived at a place called
the Phoenix Hotel; but as he has not been seen since then, I have made no further inquiry. It was not my
task to search for the fate Joss. Should it be, I would look for Chichester Laudring or Raymond
Roucard. Perhaps for both."
Yat Soon became silent. He folded the letter and solemnly returned it to The Shadow. The visitor arose
and spoke parting words in Chinese; to which Yat Soon, in courtesy, made response in English. A panel
opened; The Shadow made his departure from the arbiter's hidden abode.
TWELVE minutes later, the chauffeur of a big limousine heard a voice speak from the interior of the car.
Acknowledging the order, the chauffeur started the motor and drove away from the parking spot that he
had chosen near the outskirts of Chinatown.
The chauffeur's name was Stanley; the car was owned by a wealthy globetrotter named Lamont
Cranston. The quiet tones that Stanley had heard were those of his master, ordering him to drive to the
Phoenix Hotel. Stanley was puzzled, wondering why Lamont Cranston had chosen to visit such an old
and out-of-the-way hostelry.
Perhaps Stanley's perplexity would have been lessened had he known the true identity of his passenger.
It was not Lamont Cranston who was in the car; but another, who frequently donned the globe-trotter's
identity when the real Cranston was absent from New York.
The passenger was The Shadow. Returned from his visit to Yat Soon, he was following the arbiter's
suggestion. Choosing between Chichester Laudring and Raymond Roucard, The Shadow had decided to
seek the latter, whose address was known.
The Shadow's quest was on. Stimulated by the stir in Chinatown; crystallized by the letter from China;
approved by Yat Soon, the enterprise would not cease until the goal had been reached. The Shadow
was determined to regain the missing Fate Joss for the temple of Je Ho.
CHAPTER II. SEEKERS OF THE JOSS
YAT SOON had spoken wisely when he had told The Shadow that there were others who sought the
Fate Joss. As arbiter of Chinatown, Yat Soon was well acquainted with the devious motives that
actuated those within the boundaries of the Oriental district. In fact, Yat Soon's status was unique; his
own appointed duties brought him into frequent contact with representatives of many minor Chinese
factions.
His position, however, was that of judge rather than investigator. Those with grievances came to Yat
Soon, bringing facts and statements concerning their wrongs. The arbiter's decisions were invariably wise
ones—often dependent upon his own knowledge of Chinatown affairs. As a one-man supreme court,
Yat Soon found it good policy to acquaint himself with conditions that might later develop into arguments
that would be brought before him.
Yat Soon had heard the rumors concerning the Fate Joss. He knew that if trouble followed, he would be
forced to render a verdict that would satisfy those who believed in the idol's mystic power. With the
wisdom of a Solomon, Yat Soon had already planned to meet such contingency. He had decided that the
Fate Joss could never be classed as stolen property, because of its own reputed ability to control its
destiny.
Yat Soon, himself, did not believe in the power of the Fate Joss. Tradition stated that it had previously
vanished from the temple of Je Ho, in China, always to return. Yat Soon doubted such legends;
nevertheless, he never disputed the beliefs of others. His fame as arbiter was grounded upon his policy of
recognizing the viewpoints and privileges of all classes.
Moreover, Yat Soon never interfered in Chinese affairs. He waited until cases were brought to him; then
issued mandates that were recognized as law.
"When Yat Soon speaks, all must do his bidding -"
That statement had become proverbial in Chinatown; but the strength of it lay in the fact that Yat Soon
never spoke without just cause.
Hence Yat Soon himself could not have named "those others" who might be seeking the Fate Jass. He
had indicated only that some might be good; and that some might be bad. Should the two conflict, Yat
Soon could deliver final judgment. Meanwhile, he had done no more than learn the names of Americans
who might be concerned in the matter of the Fate Joss.
For Yat Soon's policy of non-interference with those who lived in Chinatown did not apply to persons
foreign to the district. He frequently kept watch on Americans who mingled in Chinese affairs, knowing
that they might later be beyond his jurisdiction.
Chichester Laudring and Raymond Roucard. To Yat Soon, Laudring was no more than a name.
Roucard, however, had been seen in Chinatown. Should he appear here again, making inquiries
regarding the Fate Joss, Yat Soon would surely delve deeper into the man's affairs.
Raymond Roucard, however, had ceased to make such inquiries; Yat Soon had accepted that as proof
that the American had paid no recent visit to Chinatown. In that assumption, Yat Soon was wrong.
AT the very time of The Shadow's departure, Raymond Roucard was in Chinatown—but not where he
could be openly seen. He was present in a lavish room, a place that formed a scene of Oriental
splendor—where gorgeous dragon tapestries vied with thick Chinese rugs in the luxury of the
surroundings.
A sallow, dapper man, slight of build but shrewd of eye, Roucard was seated in a massive teakwood
chair. He was puffing at a cigarette, compressing it between lips that were topped by a pointed
mustache.
Opposite him sat an elderly Chinaman, garbed in robes of vivid crimson. This Celestial was one whom
Yat Soon would have immediately recognized. The red-clad Oriental was Shan Kwan the Mandarin.
Known and esteemed in Chinatown, Shan Kwan was one who had preserved the ancient customs of his
native land. A survivor of the old caste system, he maintained an abode that would have rivaled a palace
in old Peking. Shan Kwan had servitors who shared his traditions; he ruled them as loyal subjects of a
tiny principality. For years his influence had prevailed; but never beyond his own portals. King in his little
domain, Shan Kwan had stayed apart from the hubbub and confusion of modern Chinatown.
The presence of Raymond Roucard was proof that the American had gained answer to his inquiry. He
had learned of Shan Kwan and has come to see the mandarin. The conversation that passed between the
two was proof that this visit was not Roucard's first.
"You have told me," Shan Kwan was saying, in perfect English, "that you can obtain the Fate Joss of Je
Ho; that you can obtain it for a price."
"I can," acknowledged Roucard, with a smile of self-assurance. "I can get it for fifty grand. In cash."
"Fifty thousand dollars," declared Shan Kwan, "is not an exorbitant price. You have not, however, given
me assurance that you can find the person who now holds the Fate Joss."
"I admit that, Shan Kwan. I wasn't sure of it before; but I am right now. I can pull the deal tonight, if I
have the money."
Roucard eyed Shan Kwan; he noted the old Chinaman's wrinkled face and thought that he detected an
expression of gladness upon the impassive countenance. There was a kindliness in Shan Kwan's air, a
gentle attitude that showed the mandarin to be a man of great patience.
"When you pay money for the Fate Joss," questioned Shan Kwan, "how will you bring it from the place
where it is at present?"
"Easy enough," laughed Roucard. "I'll have it crated and shipped out by truck. Along with the two War
Dogs; they're a couple of funny cannons that were swiped along with it, from the temple."
"And where will the Fate Joss and the War Dogs be delivered?"
"In back of the old Calumet Theater. The truckmen won't think anything of dropping three crates there.
The theater's due to be opened in a couple of weeks; they'll think that the stuff is equipment.
"Leave that part of it to me, Shan Kwan. I'll get the Fate Joss there along around midnight. The crates
can lay for a couple of hours; then your own men can pick them up and bring them here."
Shan Kwan studied the speaker. He noted that Roucard was sincere, despite his crafty look. Roucard,
however, felt uneasy as he met the mandarin's quiet gaze.
"I'm on the level, Shan Kwan," insisted Roucard. "I know I haven't told you the name of the man I intend
to deal with. But I'm not going to tell him your name, either. That makes it fair both ways.
"Don't worry about trusting me with the fifty grand. All I want is a ten percent commission for the sale. I'll
get that from the fellow who has the Fate Joss. I'm not going to take it on the lam with the dough. I don't
want to be in wrong with you, and the law besides.
"Hand me the fifty grand and I'll give you a receipt for it. If you don't get the Fate Joss, you can have me
pinched. But you'll get the idol all right; and I'll trust you to tear up the receipt -"
SHAN KWAN interrupted by rising. He clapped his hands twice; golden curtains spread, to admit a
bowing servant who was clad in Chinese costume. Shan Kwan spoke, the servant retired.
A minute later, a Chinese girl entered the apartment. Roucard blinked as he observed the new arrival.
Possessed of rare and exotic beauty, the girl was the most charming person that Roucard had ever seen.
Her features were exquisite; her complexion had a semblance to the color of old ivory. Dark, limpid eyes
met Roucard's gaze; the American noted long black eyelashes that matched the raven color of the girl's
smooth, perfect hair.
Marvelous in a golden Oriental robe, the girl advanced and stretched forth a shapely hand that held a ring
of glistening keys. Shan Kwan spoke; the girl smiled and turned toward Roucard. Shan Kwan bowed an
introduction.
"This is my niece," stated the mandarin. "Her name is Loy Ming. She will take us to the temple that I have
provided for the Fate Joss."
Loy Ming led the way through the curtains. She unlocked a huge brass door; the barrier opened under
the girl's slight pressure. Shan Kwan and Roucard followed Loy Ming down a flight of stairs. The girl
unlocked another barrier; they reached a long, wide corridor.
On the left were two mammoth doors of brass, swung wide. Through these open portals the trio
descended a short flight of wide steps. They stood in a large square room, surrounded entirely by panels
that were formed of decorated brass.
Except for screens of the same metal, the room was entirely unfurnished. A square pedestal of teakwood
marked the exact center of the apartment; but it could hardly have been classed as furniture. The
pedestal, however, was the object to which Shan Kwan pointed.
"It is for the Fate Joss," stated the mandarin. "I shall have it stand here until I have arranged for it to return
where it belongs: In the temple of Je Ho."
"You're going to send the Joss back to China?" queried Roucard, incredulously. "I thought you wanted to
keep it for yourself, Shan Kwan."
"Where the Fate Joss is," returned the mandarin, solemnly, "that is where the Fate Joss chooses to be. To
human beings belong the privilege of serving the Fate Joss. What we may decide to do is controlled by
the power of the Joss."
"Sounds screwy to me," grinned Roucard. "But I don't object. If the Fate Joss wants you to make the
deal that brings it here, so much the better. Same with keeping it here or sending it to that temple in
China."
"The temple of Je Ho belongs to the faithful," pronounced Shan Kwan. "That is where the Fate Joss has
chosen to be, for centuries."
"Well, you're one of the faithful, aren't you?" objected Roucard. "This joint of yours ought to be good
enough for the Joss. Did you ever figure it that way?"
"When the Fate Joss decides," returned Shan Kwan with a note of solemnity, "men are but instruments
who serve him."
TURNING, the mandarin spoke to his niece. Roucard watched the girl unlock a panel at the back of the
brass-walled room. She entered a passage, closing the barrier behind her.
Roucard strolled about, studying the deep-set bas-relief of the panels. Looking upward, he noticed that
the ceiling was also a mass of ornamental brass.
The floor, however, was entirely covered by a thick, tufted carpeting of Chinese design.
While Roucard was mentally trying to guess the sum that had been spent in equipping this Joss room, the
back panel opened and Loy Ming returned. The girl gave a large envelope to Shan Kwan. The mandarin
opened it and extracted a bundle of crisp bank notes. There were fifty in all, each of one thousand dollar
denomination. Shan Kwan tendered the sum to Roucard.
Loy Ming led the way back to the lavish room above. There a servant appeared at Shan Kwan's order.
The mandarin shook hands with Roucard; the servitor conducted the visitor down another flight of stairs
and opened a door to a quiet street. He made a signal that must have been caught by a man further down
the street. Soon a cab rolled into view and Roucard entered it.
The taxi man was an American; the cab was a chance one that Roucard had hired to bring him to
Chinatown. He had told the driver to wait around the corner until called. Roucard had entered Shan
Kwan's inconspicuous doorway unseen. With fifty thousand dollars in his pocket, he was leaving this
border district of Chinatown. Roucard's sallow lips wore a shrewd, pleased grin as they spoke a
destination to the driver.
AS the cab rolled along a street that fringed the lighted center of Chinatown, a sharp-eyed man noticed it.
This observer was a Chinaman, clad in American attire. Turning about, he hurried to the entrance of a
small Chinese restaurant. He slackened pace as he entered and strolled past a group of Chinamen who
were busy with chopsticks and bowls of rice.
Entering a rear room, the American-clad Chinaman found another who looked very much like himself.
This was the proprietor of the restaurant, who was seated at a desk. The two spoke in English, their
tones no more than whispers.
"What is it, Leng?" inquired the proprietor. "Have you seen the man, Roucard?"
"I have seen him, Tuan," replied Leng. "He was in a taxicab, driving away from Shan Kwan's. Doctor
Tam must know of it."
"Doctor Tam shall know" returned Tuan, solemnly. He arose from his desk. "Remain here, Leng, until I
return."
Bitter grins appeared upon the faces of the Chinamen. Tuan arose and Leng took his place at the desk.
Tuan departed by a door at the back of the little office.
Yat Soon had spoken true when he had told The Shadow that there were others who might seek the
Fate Joss; and that their purposes might differ. Evil and good were due for conflict, following this
detection of Raymond Roucard's new visit to Chinatown.
Opposed to the hopes of Shan Kwan the Mandarin were the purposes of another Chinaman, whose
followers called Doctor Tam. Already Tuan, informed by Leng, was on his way with word to the chief
whose power they obeyed.
CHAPTER III. DOCTOR ROY TAM
JUST outside of Chinatown was a corner that held a touch of the Oriental district. The corner itself was
occupied by a pawnshop, but the first door below, on one of the streets making up the corner, bore the
lighted sign of a Chinese restaurant called the Hunan Cafe. The restaurant was located on the second
floor; its sign was on the level of the elevated railway that loomed above the avenue.
Similarly, the other street making up the corner had a Chinese sign one door away from the pawnshop.
This sign was above the front of a small, sleepy looking tea shop, where a lone Chinaman sat pondering
over the fact that business was poor. Like Leng and Tuan, the owner of the tea shop was garbed in
American attire.
Five minutes after he had left his Chinatown cafe, Tuan entered this tea shop and spoke to the proprietor.
The man unlocked a door at the rear of the shop. Tuan entered a storage room and the proprietor closed
the door. Locking it, he went to the front window and stared out at the side street.
Tuan, meanwhile, was threading his way through stacks of tea chests. Passing these obstructions, he
reached a stairway and ascended. On the second floor, he found a door that he unlocked for himself. It
revealed a staircase that Tuan took to the third floor.
At the top, this stairway was joined by another that came upward at a right angle. That fact, in itself, was
proof of something unusual. The second stairway came from the Hunan Cafe. Both the restaurant and the
tea-shop afforded access to this third floor; but both from a different street.
Tuan knocked at a closed door. It opened; another Americanized Chinaman was standing there. Tuan
inquired for Doctor Tam. The guardian shook his head; then told the visitor to wait. Tuan sat down in a
little reception room that was furnished entirely in American fashion.
ONE block back from the avenue was a dark, curving street that marked the very fringe of Chinatown. It
belonged to that idle, blackened terrain that seemed almost uninhabited. The street possessed a single
shop; but it was closed, its door and windows boarded. One Chinaman had made a poor guess in trying
to do business there.
A man was walking along the secluded street. Short, but quick of gait, he paused suddenly at a spot just
opposite the darkened shop. Unlocking a door, he entered a house that belonged in the same square at
the Hunan Cafe.
Passing through a darkened hallway, this man ascended a flight of stairs. He walked to the rear of the
house; there he knocked at a door and gave a guttural utterance. The door opened; the short man passed
a guard who was standing in another darkened passage.
This corridor formed a secret connection to a building at the rear. The short man followed it; he came to
another door and gave a new signal. The second barrier opened; passing another hidden guard, the short
man ascended a stairway and came to a blocking door. He unlocked it in the darkness and stepped into
a blackened room. There he closed the door and turned on a light.
The glare showed that the short man was a Chinaman. Firm-faced, square-jawed, he had features that
fitted his garb, which was completely American. This man was another whom Yat Soon would have
recognized. He was known as Doctor Roy Tam.
The room in which Doctor Tam stood was an office, furnished simply with oak table, straight-backed
chairs and metal filing cabinet. Doctor Tam seated himself behind the desk and pressed a buzzer.
The front door of the office opened; a man entered to announce that Mr. Tuan was waiting in the
reception room. Doctor Tam nodded, as sign that the visitor was to be admitted.
Tuan arrived to find Doctor Tam busy reading letters. At last the square-jawed Chinaman looked up; he
motioned for Tuan to sit down. He then made query in a sharp, choppy tone:
"Well, Tuan! What brings you here?"
"Leng has seen Roucard," replied Tuan, soberly. "He believes that the fellow was visiting Shan Kwan."
A harsh exclamation came from Tam's lips. His fists clenched upon the desk top. Then he demanded:
"Where did Roucard go?"
"We do not know," replied Tuan. "Leng did not follow him."
Doctor Tam pressed the buzzer twice. A Chinaman came into the office. He was not the one who had
admitted Tuan; this newcomer was wearing glasses and looked like a student.
"Sit down, Noy Dow," ordered Doctor Tam. "No, never mind the notebook. I have no letters to dictate.
I want you to hear what Tuan has said. Raymond Roucard visited Shan Kwan tonight."
"Regarding the Fate Joss?" questioned Noy Dow.
"Probably," replied Tam. "There have been no telephone calls during my absence?"
"There were none, Doctor Tam."
The square-jawed Chinaman was drumming his desk. In action, he seemed more American than
Chinese; but as he sat pondering, his almond eyes narrowed until they were no more than thin slits.
Oriental craftiness became dominant in the attitude of Doctor Tam.
摘要：

THEFATEJOSSMaxwellGrantThispagecopyright©2001BlackmaskOnline.http://www.blackmask.com?CHAPTERI.THESHADOW'SQUEST?CHAPTERII.SEEKERSOFTHEJOSS?CHAPTERIII.DOCTORROYTAM?CHAPTERIV.THEMIGHTYJOSS?CHAPTERV.MOVESINTHENIGHT?CHAPTERVI.MURDERATMIDNIGHT?CHAPTERVII.THEJOSSRETURNS?CHAPTERVIII.ONEHALFHOUR?CHAPTERIX.T...

展开>> 收起<<
Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 081 - The Fate Joss.pdf

共95页,预览19页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：95 页 大小：241.07KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-23

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 动力学连接体 力的合成 配电装置 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 95
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注