IT was then that Wing Goy paused to stare at the vague blotch that lay before the doorway. Here was a spot where Wing Goy had always seen light. Tonight, that spot was dark. It was not his own form that caused the shadowy blackness. Wing Goy discerned that fact as he stepped within the doorway.
A trace of curiosity showed upon the Chinaman’s bland face. With calm indifference, Wing Goy stepped into the street and peered toward the sidewalk on the other side. He moved a few paces from the doorway; as he did, the blackness on the threshold materialized suddenly, but silently. A tall, inky figure came momentarily into view then swept into the shop. When Wing Goy turned back to the doorway, he was too late to see the fleeting shape, but his almond eyes became suddenly fixed in gaze.
Again, Wing Goy was looking at the bottom of the doorway. The splotch of blackness was no longer there. Unknown to Wing Goy, The Shadow, strange being of the night, had stepped from darkness into the gloom of the Tai Yuan Shop!
With unfeigned alarm, Wing Goy toddled rapidly back into the shop. His mind was ill at ease. He had seen a shadow on the threshold; now it was gone. Wing Goy inferred that a shadow that moved must mean the presence of a human being. Someone had come and gone from outside the doorway. Wing Goy had seen nothing of a person in the street. Therefore, Wing Goy reasoned, someone must have entered the shop.
Wing Goy’s first action was to close the door and bar it. Then he looked toward a thick ironwork that blocked all passage to the stairs that led to the floor above. No one could have passed that barrier. Wing Goy began an inspection of the shop.
The Chinaman’s search carried him throughout the floor. When it had ended, Wing Goy breathed in relief. He was sure that no one was here; but before he could be positive, there was one spot that he must inspect. Wing Goy pushed his way through scattered articles of furniture, and came to a thick portion of the wall that projected like an interior chimney.
Stooping to the floor, Wing Goy raised a baseboard molding. He made a slight motion, and a portion of the projecting wall moved upward. It showed a cavity, some three feet square, with a five-foot opening.
Wing Goy satisfied himself that no one was in the artfully concealed hiding place. He stooped again, and the raised wall descended. Wing Goy moved a taboret in front of the spot.
While the Chinaman was thus engaged, there was motion on the other side of the room. The door of a large cabinet was opening. From it, with utmost stealth, emerged the figure of The Shadow. The being in black had been watching; now that Wing Goy had inadvertently disclosed the secret of this room, The Shadow was approaching.
Had Wing Goy been looking in any direction except toward the floor, he would have had no knowledge of The Shadow’s advance. But Wing Goy, still peering downward, saw a long, black silhouette creeping forward at his feet. Leaping up and turning quickly, the Chinaman found himself staring into eyes that peered from beneath the brim of a black slouch hat.
Like a flash, Wing Goy leaped forward, throwing his bony hands toward The Shadow’s neck. He was quick to begin the struggle, and he emitted a wild cry as he hurled himself at this mysterious foe. In a trice, Wing Goy’s cry turned to a choking gurgle. Black-gloved hands, thrusting from the dark, had caught around the Chinaman’s throat.
The Shadow had proven quicker than Wing Goy. The bland proprietor of the Tai Yuan Shop collapsed, helpless. The Shadow, whisking a mass of thick silk foulards from a taboret, gagged and bound the helpless man.
The job was done none too soon. Peering into the room was the yellow face of a gigantic Chinaman. This servant of Wing Goy, stationed near the back of the shop, had heard his master’s call. He had come to investigate its source.
MOVING with Oriental stealth, the huge servant was instinctively approaching the spot where The Shadow was binding his master. The big Chinaman could see no living form, but his sharp eyes detected a wavering blackness by the wall.
Had the would-be rescuer continued his slow approach, he might have taken The Shadow unaware. But the moment that the Chinaman’s eyes saw motion, they registered a need for action. A yellow hand swung upward, carrying a flashing knife blade as the huge Chinese leaped forward.
The Shadow sensed the attack. The black-brimmed hat swung suddenly. The burning eyes stared straight up toward the leaping form of the Chinese. The knife blade was flashing downward now; two black hands came up to meet it.
With swift, sure skill, The Shadow caught the Chinaman’s wrist. His other hand gripped the big man’s body. In a moment, the two were grappling beside the prostrate form of Wing Goy.
The Chinaman was a powerful brute — chosen as a guardian by Wing Goy because of his superhuman strength. He had the advantage in the fight; for The Shadow had been unable to do more than ward off the fatal knife thrust.
But as the fighting forms swung back and forth across the floor, The Shadow gained ground. Against the wall, he rose slowly, the Chinaman with him; then, bracing himself, The Shadow bent his lithe body downward.
Up came his sinister shape with all the snap of a catapult. The huge Chinaman shot head-foremost over The Shadow’s shoulders. His knife flew out ahead of him. His wild hands clawed in space. His head and shoulders crashed upon a taboret. The wood splintered as the man fell and rammed his forehead against a stout cabinet. The Chinaman lay unconscious.
The Shadow worked swiftly now. He examined the form of the victim, and his sharp eyes discerned that the big Chinaman was but momentarily stunned. A few minutes later, the huge guardian opened his eyes to find himself bound and gagged beside Wing Goy. The Shadow laughed softly in the gloom as he placed the prisoners apart, each one carefully obscured from view behind tapestries in different corners of the room.
The laugh sounded again — this time with weird reverberations — as The Shadow pressed the molding beside the projecting wall. The laugh became a hollow, whispered sound, as The Shadow entered the cavity which appeared behind the sliding panel. A click occurred; and a tiny light appeared in one black-gloved hand. The Shadow was examining the little compartment that he had entered.
The purpose of the tiny room was evident. It served as an elevator. This was indicated by a small push button on the side. The Shadow let the panel drop behind him; he now stood in a sealed prison from which exit would be easy, for the closed panel showed a small crevice at the bottom.
By keen inference, The Shadow had divined that the placid Tai Yuan Shop might be the entrance to the domain of Choy Lown, the mystic savant of Chinatown. By causing qualms in Wing Goy’s mind, The Shadow had tricked the proprietor of the shop into revealing the spot that it was his duty to hide. Wing Goy was nothing more than the guardian of Choy Lown’s sanctum.
The course lay upward now; but The Shadow did not press the button of the elevator. Instead, he examined the sides of the little lift, to find them smooth as glass, with no projection that would afford the slightest hold.
The tiny flashlight pointed upward. The roof of the elevator was a sheet of metal held in place with screws. With a blackened screw driver, The Shadow carefully removed these fastenings. The top came loose in the black-gloved hands. The light revealed a tall, narrow shaft extending upward. The Shadow laid the square metal roof piece against the wall of the elevator, and pressed the button.
THE car moved upward noiselessly, through total blackness. The Shadow’s flashlight was out. The elevator was traveling through a tight shaft, carrying The Shadow on his quest. But the black-clad passenger was not idle in the darkness. Long arms were reaching upward. Gloved hands gripped the edges of the open-roofed car.
The elevator stopped at the top of the shaft. Simultaneously the bottom of the car dropped on a hinge.