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.
Suddenly, the transformation ended. Raising his head, Tam addressed Tuan.
“You have done well, Tuan,” he commended, “you and your friend Leng. Return to your place of business and await new word. Perhaps I shall send others to join you. Be ready to receive them.”
Tuan bowed himself out. Doctor Roy Tam remained behind his desk; his only companion was the bespectacled Noy Dow. After the door had closed behind Tuan, Doctor Tam spoke.
“Bring me the list,” he ordered. “I shall choose the men whom we may need. Work lies ahead, Noy Dow.”
NOY DOW produced a list from the filing cabinet. It was typed in English; but Chinese names appeared upon it. Some of these had been crossed out in pencil. Doctor Tam checked the ones that he wanted; then passed the list back to Noy Dow.
“Summon them,” he instructed. “Tell them to be ready to join Tuan as soon as they are needed.”
Noy Dow nodded; then pointed to a name at the bottom of the list.