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YAT SOON, the arbiter of Chinatown, was standing in his paneled reception room. Despite the splendor of the place, there was no furniture. Yat Soon, when he received visitors, made it a custom for all to remain standing.
There was a musical clang from without. Yat Soon stepped to the wall and pressed a hidden release. A panel rose. Two tall Chinese stepped into the room. Yat Soon recognized them as important tong leaders.
The entering men bowed before the one whom they recognized as ruler. At a command from Yat Soon, one began to speak in Chinese. Yat Soon listened placidly. The other spoke. When he had finished, Yat Soon replied in the native tongue.
"Yat Soon has ordered," was his statement. "Yat Soon expects you to obey. There is one whom I seek as a prisoner. He must be brought hither before another night descends."
The tong leaders babbled pleading replies. Yat Soon was obdurate.
"You say that you have searched everywhere," he said. "That is no answer to Yat Soon's order. Go. Find my prisoner, or be lowered from the powers which you now hold. Yat Soon has spoken. Yat Soon rules."
The tong leaders bowed. They backed from the room as the panel opened. The bra.s.s gate descended silently. Yat Soon remained alone.
Despite his statement to the tong leaders, Yat Soon was troubled. Never had any one within the realm of Chinatown been able to balk his power. This intruder-one whom they called The Shadow-had been the first to show a strange ability in eluding the powerful arbiter.
Yet the tong leaders could certainly have spared no effort in their search. Where could The Shadow be?
A troubled look appeared upon the face of Yat Soon. Again, the ruler raised the panel. He summoned one of his Chinese guards. "Be ready," he told the Mongol. "I, Yat Soon, shall lead a search. As an example, I shall bring the tong men here. I shall show them through my secret rooms, that they may learn of hidden places beyond their dreams. Be ready, should I call."
Stepping back through the bra.s.s door, Yat Soon closed the panel. He stood in deep meditation, and his yellowed face showed a sternness. It was some subtle inkling that caused Yat Soon to suddenly look up.
A PANEL was closing at the side of the secret room. Yet Yat Soon's view of the dropping entrance was only partial. The chief portion of the panel was obscured by a form that intervened. Yat Soon was staring at a figure clad in black. His own fixed eyes were met by blazing orbs that stared from beneath the broad brim of a slouch hat.
A hand, gloved in black, projected from a cloak of the same hue. In that hand was an automatic. The weapon loomed before Yat Soon's gaze. Yet the Chinaman made no motion. He did not stir even when he heard the whispered tones of a shuddering laugh that echoed through that square-walled chamber like a sinister cry from the grave.
Yat Soon stood inflexible as he saw the one whom he was seeking as his prisoner: The Shadow!
"Yat Soon." The whispered voice was weird. "You have sought me. I am here. You have found The Shadow."
The Chinaman's face remained inflexible. Others might have quailed at this dread meeting; not so the stern man whose word was law in Chinatown.
"I have come," resumed The Shadow, "to end your quest. If you prefer life to death, Yat Soon, you will make no effort to prevent my departure."
The flicker of a smile appeared upon Yat Soon's lips. Stolidly, the Celestial made reply, his words a paraphrase of those which The Shadow had uttered.
"If you, The Shadow," was his statement, "prefer life to death, you will become my prisoner."
The Shadow laughed. Yat Soon did not appear troubled. His smile remained.
"I know now," declared Yat Soon, "where you have been in hiding. You, The Shadow, found your way to the one place where we did not think of searching. You have been lurking within the portals of my own secret abode.
"You were wise. You were safe here. You have acted craftily to elude my guards. But now you are a prisoner. Those who enter this room can never leave without the will of Yat Soon. The portals are closed against you. I, Yat Soon, alone possess the secret of reopening any of them."
The Shadow could see that Yat Soon had spoken the truth. Face to face with one of the craftiest of all Chinese, The Shadow had discovered a formidable opponent. Yet The Shadow's threat was ready in return.
"You have spoken well, Yat Soon," declared the black-clad master. "But you forget your own condition.
Perhaps death may await me should I try to leave this room. But remember, Yat Soon! Before I make such an attempt, you will be dead upon this very floor!"
The threat was ample. Yat Soon's smile faded. It was stale-mate. The Shadow could not escape without Yat Soon's aid. Yat Soon, should he fail to obey The Shadow's order, would die at The Shadow's hand! Minutes moved slowly by while Yat Soon faced The Shadow. Then, with a short bow, the Chinaman made his decision.
"Very well," he remarked, in his perfect English. "We must die."
THERE was a strange acceptance in the Chinaman's tone. It brought a steady glare from The Shadow's blazing eyes. Yat Soon was able to resist that gaze; but he caught a question in the gleam. Unresisting, he answered it.
"The word of Yat Soon has been given," declared the Chinaman, in simple tones. "I have promised to deliver you to Gray Fist. I must obey; even though my life may be the sacrifice. Gray Fist must have The Shadow. Alive or dead."
The statement was given in a tone of fact. It showed the simplicity of Yat Soon's nature; it revealed the justice that had made this one Chinese the arbiter of all Chinatown. The question still appeared in The Shadow's eyes.
"Gray Fist once aided me," explained Yat Soon. "A young man-from China-was in danger. Gray Fist, in return for aiding him from the country, demanded that I, Yat Soon, serve Gray Fist."
"And you agreed," came The Shadow's whispered tone.
"I did agree," resumed Yat Soon, "but only to one promise. I told Gray Fist that I would accede to a single request. He did not ask it until recently. Then he sent word that you were in Chinatown. He demanded that I turn you over to him, as a prisoner. Alive or dead."
There was no doubt that Yat Soon intended to keep his promise. Silence pervaded the room, until The Shadow spoke. His hissing tone was solemn.
"Gray Fist," declared The Shadow, "once offered me a promise. He agreed to loose two prisoners-men who served me-if I would yield to his demand. He has not done so."
"You are not his prisoner," rejoined Yat Soon.
"That is true," announced The Shadow. "But should I aid you in keeping your promise to Gray Fist, you, in turn, must a.s.sure me that Gray Fist will keep his promise to me."
Yat Soon blinked solemnly. With his steady mind, the arbiter considered the proposal. At length, he bowed, in acceptance of the terms.
"If you enable me to keep my trust," he said, "I shall plead with Gray Fist to abide by his terms with you."
"That is not enough!" The Shadow's tone was stern. "This, Yat Soon, is a new pact. It lies between us alone. I shall become your prisoner. I, by my own willingness, shall see that your promise to Gray Fist is kept.
"But I must have your aid-your fairness-to see that Gray Fist deals with me as he has promised.
Should he perform no treachery, he may take me, even though it means my death."
"What is your plan?" inquired Yat Soon doubtfully.
The Shadow's whisper resumed. This time, the black-garbed phantom moved closer to Yat Soon. The words that The Shadow uttered were not in English. They were in perfect Chinese, to the amazement ofYat Soon. The Celestial nodded; wonder, then admiration, appeared upon his face. When The Shadow's discourse was ended, Yat Soon understood. He bowed.
"All is fair," he replied in English. "I shall perform my obligation to Gray Fist. I shall give him the opportunity to prove that he will keep his word. You will become his prisoner as I have promised. Yat Soon agrees."
The Shadow's automatic disappeared beneath the black cloak. Yat Soon went to the rear of the room and pressed a switch. Another panel arose. It revealed a small room, beautifully decorated in Chinese style. Yat Soon bowed for The Shadow to enter.
"This," declared Yat Soon, "will be your prison, for the time. I shall give the order to reach Gray Fist. I shall return, to speak with you, before he has arrived. I, Yat Soon, shall keep my word with The Shadow. Yat Soon has spoken."
The Shadow stepped through the threshold into the little room. The panel descended as Yat Soon pressed the switch. Alone, the Chinaman blinked solemnly. A bland smile appeared upon his yellow face.
Yat Soon was ready to keep his promise to Gray Fist. The Shadow would soon be in the power of the superfiend!
CHAPTER XXII. GRAY FIST ARRIVES.
LONG hours had pa.s.sed since The Shadow's interview with Yat Soon. Once again, the wise Mongol stood within the portals of his reception room. A clang at the door. Yat Soon opened the panel to admit Snakes Blakey.
Yat Soon's expression showed that he had expected the sneaky gangster's arrival. Snakes, feeling more confidence than he had shown before, began to speak as soon as the panel had dropped.
"It's all set, Yat Soon," he declared. "I got the message you left for me outside. I took it to Gray Fist."
"He has agreed to the terms?" questioned Yat Soon mildly.
"Sure thing," replied Snakes. "He's got three prisoners. Two of them were guys that worked for The Shadow. The other is a d.i.c.k named Joe Cardona. They're all downstairs. We're ready to bring them up."
"Who is ready?"
"Ruff Shefflin and his gang. You said the prisoners had to be brought here. Gray Fist agreed. But he's not going to let them out of sight of his crew-of Ruff's crew."
Yat Soon considered the statement solemnly. At last, he denoted his acquiescence. He pressed the switch; the panel opened. Snakes Blakey issued forth to follow the arrangements.
As soon as the mobster had gone, Yat Soon walked stolidly to the panel at the rear of the room. He paused there, in deep thought. At last, he pressed the switch and went through the rising opening.
He had gone to carry this word to The Shadow. Ruff Shefflin and a crew of mobsters had not been in the previous discussion. Nevertheless, Yat Soon apparently expected his prisoner to abide by the unexpected arrangements. When the panel opened, a smile beamed on Yat Soon's usually placid face. The red-robed master closed the panel of The Shadow's prison. A clang from outside announced that visitors were at the bra.s.s gate.
Yat Soon opened the portal.
Mobsters shuffled into the reception room. With them they had three prisoners. Jabbing revolvers kept Cliff Marsland and Harry Vincent in line, along with Joe Cardona. All were groggy. They had evidently been doped for this occasion.
THERE were half a dozen mobsters in all. Ruff Shefflin was their leader. Snakes Blakey was with the crew. They shoved their prisoners against the wall. Snakes Blakey faced Yat Soon.
"Here they are," he snarled. "Two of them belong to The Shadow. These two-and we brought the other guy along for good measure."
"Where is Gray Fist?" came Yat Soon's query.
"He's coming," laughed Snakes. "We'll wait for him. He's the fellow that wants The Shadow-Gray Fist is."
Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland were staring wearily about them. Their faces began to register surprise at this strange setting. Joe Cardona, beside them, seemed more alive than The Shadow's agents.
Although he made no effort to defy the gun-wielding gangsters, the detective wore a challenging look.
In fact, Cardona became more alert and defiant, as slow minutes moved by. It was the clangor beyond the front panel that caused Cardona's look to turn to one of intense interest. Then came words that brought the detective's head up straight.
"It's Gray Fist!" exclaimed Snakes Blakey.
The panel rose as Yat Soon pressed the switch. Into the room stepped a man clad in gray. Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland stared. They recognized the figure that they had seen before. This time, in better light, the face was plain also. It was a face that neither could remember.
A startled cry of recognition came, however, from another quarter. Joe Cardona, staring madly, knew the man who had just entered. He had recognized Gray Fist! This man who was dressed in gray was Landis Glas...o...b..
THERE was no pitiful expression on the face of the financier. Glas...o...b..s features were tinged with evil.
He made no pretense to cover up his fiendish character. He was gloating, in an hour of evil triumph - sneering as he glanced at Joe Cardona.
The detective, more alert than ever, knew the hideous truth. Landis Glas...o...b..as Gray Fist-had never trusted more than one minion. He had used Seth Cowry as an agent to gain power over men of big affairs- men whom Landis had studied, and whose weaknesses he knew.
Fearing betrayal by Cowry, Gray Fist had obtained Snakes Blakey. Through the sneaky mobster, he had gained the services of Ruff Shefflin and attendant gangsters. They had put Seth Cowry on the spot.
Ruggles Preston had also served as a worker to keep the victims in line-but Preston had never known the true ident.i.ty of Gray Fist.
With total ignorance of whom it was he served, Ruggles Preston had kept the name of Landis Glas...o...b..on the list of victims. He had unwittingly watched his own chief all the while he watched the others!
Snakes Blakey had been the only go-between; with Ruff Shefflin at his bidding, the sneak had done hiswork well. The death of Preston, however, had been a blow to Gray Fist. The fiend had feared that Joe Cardona had uncovered the list. He had sent his victims out of town; but he, himself, had remained, playing a pitiful part to lure Cardona!
By learning that Cardona alone held the list, Gray Fist had been free to act. Snakes Blakey had been watching. He had posted mobsters. They had seized Cardona. Yet even had they failed, Gray Fist, as Landis Glas...o...b.. could have proven his innocence of all wrongdoing. He would have appeared as the most unfortunate of all his own victims!
Wild thoughts ran through Cardona's mind. His helplessness was the final one. The arch fiend stood free, proud of his villainy, so sure of his success that he made no further effort to conceal his ident.i.ty.
Nothing could thwart Gray Fist now. Only vague hope seared through Joe Cardona's brain. Then, the fantastic belief in some salvation ended as the detective heard the demand which Gray Fist made of Yat Soon.
"I have come," sneered Gray Fist, "to hold you to your promise, Yat Soon. I have come for the prisoner you hold."
"He is here," came the Chinaman's solemn reply.
A harsh chortle came from Gray Fist's throat. This villain who was Landis Glas...o...b..raised his right hand and clutched the air with a tightening gray-gloved hand.
"None can thwart me now!" he cried, for all the listeners to hear. "None! Gray Fist holds the master of them all! Gray Fist holds The Shadow!"
CHAPTER XXIII. GRAY FIST'S TREACHERY.
"YOUR prisoner awaits you."
The declaration came from Yat Soon as the Chinaman made a bow to Gray Fist.
"Where is his prison?" queried Landis Glas...o...b.. "Where have you kept him?"
Yat Soon made a gesture toward the rear panel.
"You are sure -" began Glas...o...b..
"He will make no trouble," interposed Yat Soon. "I shall keep my promise to place him in your hands."
"After that -"