Maxwell Grant.........................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER I. SOUTH OF FRISCO........................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. A CHINAMAN'S MESSAGE.........................................................................................5

CHAPTER III. THE HATCHET MAN ...................................................................................................9

CHAPTER IV. THE MISSING MESSAGE.........................................................................................13

CHAPTER V. THE SHADOW VISITS ................................................................................................16

CHAPTER VI. CROOKS CONFER.....................................................................................................21

CHAPTER VII. HORDES OF THE FANS ...........................................................................................25

CHAPTER VIII. MING DWAN'S GUILE...........................................................................................29

CHAPTER IX. THE LAIR OF THE FAN............................................................................................33

CHAPTER X. THE BLADE OF DEATH .............................................................................................36

CHAPTER XI. DEATH IN THE DEPTHS..........................................................................................41

CHAPTER XII. ALONG THE WATER FRONT .................................................................................46

CHAPTER XIII. WITHIN THE CORDON..........................................................................................50

CHAPTER XIV. THE HOUSE OF LI SHENG ....................................................................................54

CHAPTER XV. TRAP FOR TRAP......................................................................................................59

CHAPTER XVI. LI SHENG OBJECTS...............................................................................................63

CHAPTER XVII. CLOAKED FLIGHT ................................................................................................67

CHAPTER XVIII. TEN MILLION DOLLARS...................................................................................71

CHAPTER XIX. HALTED RANSOM.................................................................................................75

CHAPTER XX. SHARED TRIUMPH.................................................................................................79

The powerful, lowslung roadster was spinning southward along a highway that overhung the Pacific's shore.

Brilliant headlights showed the broad stretch of highway fairly pouring beneath the hugetired wheels.

With all its speed, the motor's tone was rhythmic. The car never slackened as it took the sweeping,

wellbanked curves. A forceful driver was at the wheel of that surging roadster. His eyes were constantly on

the highway ahead. Not once did they wander to look at the speedometer on the dashboard.

The speed that was registered there was one hundred miles an hour. The needle held to that mark as if glued.

Eyes alone were visible within the darkness beneath the roadster's low racing top. Eyes that burned from

beneath the brim of a slouch hat. The rest of the driver's face was obscured by the upturned collar of a

The Shadow was speeding to a mission where the delay of even half a minute might cost the lives of innocent

The big car zoomed past a looming headland. Below, off to the right, lay a stretch of absolute blackness that

represented the broad expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Under the clouded night sky, the sea had become a

Then, from that blackness twinkled lights. A ship was hovering in toward the shore.

The Shadow knew the identity of that vessel. It was the trawler Tantalus, its skipper a Captain Malhearn. The

ship held a human cargo. It was here to unload Chinese upon the California coast.

There was time to arrive at the beach before the small boats from the Tantalus reached it. The Tantalus was

slated for trouble from the Coast Guard; and that could mean murder of the Chinese cargo, unless some one

intervened. The chinkrunners had an unpleasant habit of dumping human evidence overboard, when

They wouldn't work that game tonight, if The Shadow showed up on the deck of the Tantalus, out of a small

At the moment when he spied the trawler's lights, the time element was all in The Shadow's favor. Then, in

The Shadow's right foot shot from the accelerator to the brake pedal. With quick jabs, he broke the big car's

speed and pumped pressure into the hydraulic brakes. As the roadster sliced down to fifty, The Shadow

jammed the brakes hard. The huge automobile swayed and screeched to a stop, only a dozen feet short of a

WITH a flick, a gloved hand turned off the ignition and extinguished the lights. The door opened; a cloaked

The Shadow's move was none too soon. Three flashlights glimmered as a trio of huskies pounced from stony

hiding places. Guns in their fists, they sprang to the stalled roadster, expecting to overpower its unfortunate

Oaths were rasped when the thugs found the big car empty. Those mutters, like the flashlights, betrayed the

positions of the trio. Before they could rally themselves, the coverup crew was met by The Shadow's

A thug by the left side of the car was the first to take it. He swung his flashlight, to catch The Shadow's

outline in its gleam. The hoodlum saw his foe too late. Looming upon him from beside the car's big hood,

The Shadow sledged a long arm for the fellow's head. A heavy automatic sideswiped a capped skull. The

A second rowdy had reached the roadster's steering wheel. He heard his pal slump. He aimed blindly into the

blackness above the car door. That darkness solidified into a human shape. From it sped a free, gloved hand

that throttled the crook's throat with a paralyzing grip. The thug's head went back; his arms dropped. His

With a side fling, The Shadow slammed his second foeman flat on the floor of the car. Clearing the way, he

did a headlong dive clear over the other door, straight into the glare of the flashlight that bobbed there. The

Shadow's surge blotted the light's rays. Flinging aside his .45 as he came, he locked with the last thug before

The third struggle was as swift as the others. The Shadow took his adversary off balance; sprawled him to the

edge of the highway, where the thug's head took a jolt that left him senseless. The Shadow had settled the

KEEPING his flashlight low, The Shadow found a jagged path between high rocks. Going through, he found

himself upon a high promontory. Again, the lights of the Tantalus twinkled, very close to shore. Lanterns

were swinging from the beach. Boats were preparing to put out, to bring the Chinese ashore.

The Shadow had a difficult quarter mile to cover, to reach that crowd on the beach. The only path was a

precipitous one, down from this high ground. At that, The Shadow might have reached his goal before the last

boat started; but before he could begin his foray, another circumstance intervened.

A longbeamed searchlight cleaved the blackness. It shone from a full mile off shore, and its sweeping path

finally settled on the clumsy hulk of the trawler Tantalus. A Coast Guard cutter had arrived to pick out the

The cutter's approach was untimely. It foretold death to the helpless Chinese. Halted on the path, The Shadow

could picture those Celestials going overboard in deep water, weighted with chunks of iron. Runners like

The Shadow's race seemed useless, when a strange thing happened. The lights of the trawler came moving

That meant one thing only; Malhearn was going to beach the Tantalus; wreck it in the booming surf. There

was but a single reason possible for such sacrifice. The skipper was determined to unload his Chinese cargo

Others than The Shadow stared at the unusual sight. That gang along the beach could not understand

Malhearn's folly. A shell whined from the cutter; it whistled across the trawler's bow and splashed the waves.

There was a lull; another warning shot had no effect. During the next interval, the only sounds were the roar

of the rolling surf and the pound of the trawler's engines. The cutter began fire in earnest. A shell ripped away

The lights of the Tantalus quivered. The chunky ship was beached. Firefly gleams from the cutter told that its

crew was boarding small boats, to take up the chase ashore. Near the bottom of the path, The Shadow saw

men dragging watersoaked Chinese into the light of the lanterns. One small batch was hustled away, in a

direction opposite The Shadow's. They were being taken to trucks, hidden by rocks on the highway,

More Chinese were hauled ashore, but no more groups were started on their way. The cutter's boats had

landed. Government men opened fire, above the heads of the men who were in the open. Some made a dash

for the road. The rest threw up their arms and surrendered, along with Malhearn and the trawler's crew.

By the rocks beside the road, a dozen men were waiting in ambush, their rifles covering the beach. One of

"They've grabbed Malhearn and the rest of the shore gang! They've got the chinks, too! They'll be heading

here to snatch the bunch that we just ran through to the trucks. Here they come! Let 'em have it."

Rifles crackled from the rocks. There were answering shots from the beach; then the Coast Guardsmen

dropped for cover. There were raucous shouts from the crooks in ambush. This time, the advantage was

theirs. They had the government men in the open; the crooks intended to give no quarter.

Slaughter was their plan; then the release of Malhearn and the other prisoners, and a recapture of the Chinese.

Longrange flashlights beamed through the darkness, to show up the fighters who were flattened along the

unprotected beach. Three minutes were all that the dozen snipers needed to wipe out the Coast Guard crew.

As the first rifles rattled, seeking the right range, a pair of automatics spoke from a rocky crevice. Flames

tongued straight toward the snipers. Those bursts were from The Shadow's automatics. The cloaked fighter

Clustered sharpshooters sprawled. Their pals swung savagely to meet the flank fire. They fired their rifles

toward the crevice. The bullets ricocheted without effect. The Shadow's ambush was a perfect one.

His automatics continued their closerange pour. Unwounded thugs did not wait for that volley to finish.

That took them to rocks above, away from The Shadow's fire. They were spotted by lights from one of the

cutter's boats. Riflemen from the beach began to pick off the fleeing thugs, while others hurried forward to

Shifting back toward his rocky path, The Shadow could see the results. He had accounted for half of the

ambushed crooks. The remaining six were dropping one by one, toppling from rocks as rifle shots winged

From a final vantage point, The Shadow could see a waiting truck, beyond the range of his automatics. Its

motor was roaring, ready for the getaway, when a lone member of the ambush party staggered into the glare

Rocks protected the truck from the Coast Guard fire. The driver lingered long enough to haul the wounded

man aboard. Then the truck was off with a roar, carrying its small cargo of Chinese a mere three or four

The Shadow reached his roadster. He arrived in time to subdue one of the thugs who had recovered. He

bound the hoodlum, along with his stunned pals, and left all three by the rocks, where the Coast Guard could

find them. Stepping into the roadster, The Shadow turned the car about and started back toward San

A WEIRD laugh sounded from the darkness of the roadster. Its chilling tones blended with the pound of the

Pacific's surf. Though luck had interchanged tonight, the final result had been success. The Shadow had

There was no chance to pursue the fleeing truck; for it had started southward from a spot beyond the blocking

road barrier. The Shadow was content to let the few surviving crooks have their small success, carrying

Though he had not yet learned it, The Shadow had missed the greatest of tonight's opportunities. The escape

of that lone truck and its small cargo was destined to plunge The Shadow into a series of strange and

Aboard the fleeing truck, a steady, hardfaced driver was choosing a roundabout way back to San Francisco.

The ugly look on his squarejawed face showed that he was contemptuous of pursuit. He knew these roads

The driver's name was "Lubber" Kreef; and he considered himself an exmember of Malhearn's trawler crew.

Lubber had quit the Tantalus because he had never been able to find his sea legs. When Malhearn had given

up trawling to run Chinese, he had found Lubber and signed him up as shore man for the outfit. What Lubber

had failed to learn about handling a trawler, he had made up for with his knowledge of managing a truck.

Lubber was growling as he drove along. Though loyal to Malhearn, he thought the skipper crazy, because he

had beached the Tantalus. He was sore, too, because the shore gang hadn't brought all the Chinese to the

truck. It would be a long rap for Malhearn and the crew of the Tantalus. Lubber didn't care about the shore

All except the fellow that Lubber had dragged aboard the truck. He was Steve Henney, from the Tantalus.

Steve had come along to see that the Chinese reached the truck. Recognizing him as an old pal, Lubber had

It didn't seem much use, though. Slumped beside Lubber, Steve looked like he was through. A couple of

"You're O.K., Steve," growled the truck driver. "I'll get you to a croaker when we hit Frisco. I'll drop you

Steve coughed the words. Lubber didn't doubt the statement. He had figured that Steve would be dead before

they reached San Francisco. Lubber thrust out his right hand, to quiet Steve as the fellow writhed in the truck

"Take this, Lubber!" Steve managed to press an envelope into the driver's hand. "A Chinee give it to me on

the boat. It means means five grand if you deliver it to the guy it's meant for! The dough's yours Lubber

Steve went limp. Thrusting the envelope in his pocket, Lubber leaned from the wheel to eye his companion.

"Five grand," muttered Lubber. "Steve meant it, too. Boy, this is a break, now that Malhearn's racket is on the

Lubber finished his comment with a nod of thanks to the dead form of Steve Henney. Perhaps Lubber would

have omitted the courtesy, had he known the person for whom the message was meant.

Astonishing though it was, that envelope that had passed from one crook to another was addressed to The

NEAR San Francisco, Lubber conveniently disposed of Steve's body; but did not look at the envelope. When

he reached the city, he drove to a garage, where a crew of mysterious, lurking Chinese took over the

Driving away, Lubber headed for another garage and stowed the truck there. Coming out on the street, he

The only name and address that showed on the envelope were two Chinese characters. As near as Lubber

could figure it, they represented some one's name; but that didn't help. Lubber couldn't read Chinese.

There was one place where the riddle could be answered. That was Chinatown. The Oriental district wasn't

far from the garage. Soon, Lubber was footing it along steeppitched streets where yellow faces were in

Stopping by the brilliantly lighted front of a Chinese theater, Lubber accosted a Celestial who looked like a

doorman. He shoved the envelope in front of the fellow's almond eyes, with the query:

Slanted eyes became beady. The Chinaman showed a frightened look. His lips muttered a name that Lubber

There was a Chinese girl in the box office. Lubber flashed the envelope there. The girl's eyes stared as though

they were looking right through Lubber. Mechanically, the girl spoke in English:

Lubber had gone half a block before he realized that the girl's words must have been false. What was she

doing, working for a Chinese theater, if she couldn't talk the lingo and read Chinese?

At a lighted corner where a pagodashaped auction house towered, Lubber stopped a passing Chinese and

showed him the envelope, with the hoarse demand that the fellow interpret the characters.

The Chinaman twisted away, while Lubber clung to him. At last, the man mumbled the words:

The Chinaman didn't answer. They had reached a handy alley. He broke away and darted from sight before

Some other Chinese had seen the episode. They were gathering close to Lubber. To explain the matter, he

showed them the envelope. Two or three moved away hurriedly. Another pair made a move as if reaching for

REACHING another street, Lubber felt nervous. Who was this Ying Ko, that some Chinese didn't want to

talk about; whose name was like a threat to others? Had the tougherlooking Mongols passed the word

Lubber thought so, for he fancied that he could see passing Chinese stare at him; while others, squatted in

Lubber found an alleyway that suited him and cut through to another street. He grunted with relief when he

saw no sharp looks from the next Chinese who he passed. But he kept the envelope in his pocket.

There was a tea shop on this street; in front sat a benign old Chinaman who puffed a long pipe. Lubber

"I've got a message for some Chinaman named Ying Ko. It's in Chinese. But nobody will put me wise about

The old Chinaman stopped his contented puffing. His mild eyes had a piercing glitter as they studied Lubber.

Lubber followed the old man inside. There, the Chinaman requested to see the message. Lubber produced the

Lubber halted. He decided that he had told enough. The old Chinaman evidently believed Lubber, when the

Lubber shook his head emphatically. The Chinaman looked at the envelope; for a moment, Lubber thought

that he intended to open it. With five thousand dollars promised for the safe delivery of the message, Lubber

didn't want that. He made a hurried snatch for the envelope. Lubber's sincere eagerness to protect the message

"You will promise," he said, "to show that message to no one else. Nor will you mention the name of Ying

Lubber agreed. The Chinaman asked him for his address. Lubber scrawled it on a piece of paper. Blandly, the

old man led him through the rear of the shop to a door that opened on an alleyway. He bowed Lubber out into

As soon as Lubber had gone, the old Chinaman went to a telephone and called a number. There was an

"I have called you, Doctor Tam, because you are a friend to Ying Ko The Shadow. Tonight, I have seen a

message addressed to Ying Ko. It is held by one who does not know that Ying Ko is The Shadow. This is his

The address given, the old Chinaman went out to the front of the shop and resumed his chair there. He puffed

his pipe as contentedly as if he had totally forgotten Lubber's visit. But behind the old Celestial's placid gaze

lay watchfulness. He was making sure that no spies appeared along the street. Seeing none, the Chinaman

That teashop proprietor was neither a superstitious Oriental who feared mention of the name Ying Ko, nor

did he belong to an evil brood of Mongols, who sought to thwart The Shadow. He was a friend of Doctor Roy

Tam, a modern Chinese, who stood for progress. Doctor Tam, so a chosen few understood, owed much of his

UNFORTUNATELY, the quiet of the teashop street was misleading. There was a reason why lurkers did

not come there. Lubber Kreef had unwisely poked himself in the wrong direction; he was back on a lighted

Though evileyed Mongols knew nothing of Lubber's stop at the tea shop, they had his trail again. They

knew that he was the bearer of a message to Ying Ko. The rumor passed to other Chinese of a skulking type.

Heading toward the water front, Lubber soon realized that he was being watched. He was near the outskirts of

Chinatown; he saw a big truck halted at a corner. It was pointed in the direction that Lubber wanted.

Lubber hopped aboard without ceremony, and introduced himself to the driver as a fellow truckman.

"Thanks for the lift, buddy," Lubber voiced, when they neared the front. "I'll drop off here."

Lubber picked a corner near a grogshop that was frequented chiefly by seamen. He figured that he needed a

few stiff drinks, to forget those peering yellow faces that had watched him everywhere.

At a battered corner table in the boozejoint, Lubber was pouring himself a third glass when a big hand

thwacked his shoulders. Lubber winced; then grinned as he recognized the man who sat down beside him.

The fellow was "Shiv" Faxon, a racketeer whose business frequently brought him to the docks.

A smooth customer, Shiv. Thinfaced, tightlipped; with eyes that stared like little beads. His hands were

quick, restless, as if they itched for action. They could give it too. The racketeer was a speedy man with the

"shiv," the slang term for a knife. It was his ability with the dirk that had produced his nickname.

Shiv had learned his knifework in Mexico. Since his sojourn in that country, he rarely carried a gun. But he

never lacked a knife. Shiv had a collection of those tools; his hardware included bolos, machetes and stilettos.

"H'lo, Shiv," greeted Lubber. "Wish you'd been with me up in Chinatown. Lot of chinks up there looked like

Lubber produced the envelope; flashed it so that Shiv could glimpse the Chinese characters.

"This come from a chink that was run through tonight," confided Lubber. "Those letters ain't laundry marks.

They're the name of the guy that's to get the message. Five grand for me when I deliver it. Only, a lot of

Lubber had an idea that five thousand dollars was small change to Shiv. He saw no harm in mentioning the

amount; in fact, he thought it would put him higher in Shiv's estimation. Lubber refrained, though, from

mentioning the name of Ying Ko. He shrugged his shoulders and pocketed the envelope, when Shiv asked

AT a nearby table sat a stooped man, whose face had a yellowish tinge, although he didn't look like a

Chinese. His eyes had noticed the large characters on the envelope, when Lubber happened to turn it in his

direction. Finishing a drink, the stoopish man arose and sidled into a back room, to reach a telephone.

Ten minutes later, Lubber said good night to Shiv and left the grogshop. From the moment that he reached

No ordinary trailers, these. They were the pick of Chinatown's stalkers. They shifted from doorway to

doorway; clung to the darkened fronts of piers. They were close behind Lubber when he took a side street and

There was a short passage beside the house; it ended in a blocking, tenfoot wall. Watching from the tiny

blind alley, two lurking Chinese saw the light of a gas jet flicker from a corner window at the rear of the third

floor. They had marked Lubber's room. Sidling away, they babbled in low tone to other Chinese.

Three minutes later, there wasn't a single yellow face in sight anywhere along that block. The Chinese trailers

More minutes passed. Beneath the glow of a dingy street lamp came an evasive streak of darkness, that flitted

weirdly into view, then faded. It told of a living shape, blended with the blackness of the house fronts.

The Shadow had heard from Doctor Roy Tam. He had come to find the man who held a message for him.

Gliding noiselessly along the front street, The Shadow made positive that there were no lurkers present. He

noted the house number; then moved into the blind alley. From there, he saw streaks of light from the edges

Lubber was at home, ready to receive his mysterious visitor. Blackness moved toward the front door of the

house; The Shadow entered a dim hallway, where he faded from sight as he approached a flight of stairs.

The Shadow had chosen the usual route to Lubber's room, on a mission that seemed simple and direct. Yet,

when he crossed that threshold, The Shadow was moving into danger as insidious as any that he had ever

ALL was placid in Lubber's room at the time when The Shadow had observed the light that fringed the

shaded window. But circumstances were due for a sudden shift there one that came within the few minutes

There were two windows in Lubber's room. The Shadow had observed the one that opened on the side of the

house. The other was in the rear wall. Lubber had drawn the shades of both windows, but he had not locked

Moreover, Lubber saw no danger from the windows. The side one was three floors above the ground. The

rear window was above an eightfoot drop to a porch roof that was on a level with the second story.

The door was locked, with the key in it. Lubber was seated at a corner table, staring at the envelope that bore

the mysterious name of Ying Ko. In addition to the table, the room had a few rickety chairs and a battered

bedstead. There was also a large, clumsy piece of furniture in the shape of a big wardrobe, that stood against

As Lubber figured it, that bulky wardrobe was useless. It took up what he termed "half the room", and he had

no use for the big drawers with which the wardrobe was provided. Lubber kept all his belongings in a

Itchily, Lubber fingered the envelope. He remembered that the Chinese teashop merchant had wanted to

open it. Shiv Faxon would have liked to do the same. Lubber was feeling the same impulse; but the thought

of five thousand dollars restrained him. There wasn't going to be any squawk from Ying Ko, whoever he

Half aloud, Lubber expressed the speech that he expected to deliver for the benefit of some owlfaced

"Five grand, Ying Ko," repeated Lubber, "and it's yours. Take a gander; see for yourself that nobody's looked

into it. Don't ask me who it's from. All I know is what it's worth. Take it or leave it!"

DURING his mumble, Lubber failed to hear a sound behind him. There was a flutter from the curtain of the

rear window. That shade was too old to give a warning crinkle. What Lubber should have heard was the creak

The curtain raised. From beneath it peeked a wicked yellow visage, with an ugliness that outmatched any face

that Lubber had seen in Chinatown tonight. Long, spidery arms reached for the floor; clawish hands spread

The grotesque creature that crouched on the floor by the window could scarcely be classed as human. His

face showed him to be a Chinaman; but his dwarfish, hunchy body looked like the figure of an undersize

The ugly visitor had scaled the wall for a meeting with Lubber Kreef. He was clad in darkish, baggy

garments, with a big belt around his spidery waist. From that belt, the distorted man drew the most terrible of

Chinese weapons: an oddshaped hatchet. That instrument, so often used in tong assassinations, was the

The hatchet man unlimbered. Edging forward, he halted suddenly and stretched against the wall near the

window. Lubber had thrust the envelope deep into a pocket. He was rising from the table. Dotty eyes watched

him. If Lubber turned toward the rear window, the hatchet man would spring. If not, he would wait.

Lubber unwittingly did just what the assassin wanted. He stretched himself; then decided to sit down again.

He opened the table drawer, brought out a grimy pack of playing cards. He began to shuffle the pasteboards

for a game of solitaire, while he waited for Ying Ko. Lubber never dealt a single card. The riffle of the pack

was loud enough, close enough, to prevent Lubber from hearing the hatchet man's approach. With long,

creepy stride, the killer came forward; drew back a thin arm and made a straight leap. His hatchet descended

The blow cleaved bone and brain. Lubber's shoulders seemed to telescope, then flounder sideways. He

THE killer thrust his hatchet beneath his belt. Crouching above Lubber's body, he dipped his clawish fingers

into the dead man's pockets. He was probing for the envelope; but all the while, his dotlike eyes were fixed

elsewhere. They were watching the door, the one place from which the hatchet man thought trouble might

The hatchet man's fingers had not reached the envelope, when his eyes saw something. The key in the lock

was turning in so slow a fashion that its motion was barely perceptible. It stopped at intervals; then moved

again. Some one in the hallway had pushed clippers through the outside keyhole, to clamp the key itself.

Lubber, had he lived, would certainly have failed to detect that motion, which announced the secret arrival of

The spidery assassin grimaced; took in his breath with a low, sucking hiss. He shot a quick gaze about the

Rising from the body of his victim, the killer used his clawlike hands to draw open the middle drawer of the

wardrobe. It was loose; it came open with only the slightest scrape. The drawer was empty; the size of a large

He swung his body over the front of the drawer; doubled himself like a contortionist until he fitted inside. His

fingers gripped a brace above the drawer; with a motion of his arms, the hatchet man slid the drawer shut,

The ruse was a perfect one. The average person, finding Lubber's body, would suppose that a man of brawn

had delivered the fatal hatchet stroke. The wardrobe drawer was scarcely large enough to contain a midget.

The peculiar, scrawny build of the hatchet man served him as ably in finding cover, as it had in scaling the

Through a big keyhole in the drawer an evil eye watched the door key complete its turn.

The door edged inward. The watching eye saw The Shadow peer into the room. Then the eye was gone, so

that even its glisten could not betray the hatchet man. In place of his eye, the vicious murderer had planted his

ear to the keyhole. That ear blocked the light, and could not be seen. But it enabled its crafty owner to gauge,

Seeing Lubber's body, The Shadow paused to study the room. His fist gripped a heavy automatic. He was

ready for any sudden attack. He saw no space where a normal killer could be hidden. The room was

There was a rustle from the rear window. The Shadow went there, lifted the shade that a slight breeze had

moved. He found the sash raised. Looking below, he saw the roof above the back porch; beyond it, the

darkness of a cement courtyard between this house and the row on the next street.

The Shadow had heard a slight, scrapy noise while he was working on the door lock. The opened window

seemed to account for it. A departing murderer, squeezing through, could have caused the noise before he

dropped to the porch. That conclusion fitted so well, that The Shadow ignored the big wardrobe cabinet as a

WITH all evidence pointing to the killer's departure, The Shadow approached Lubber's body. He recognized

that the murder was the work of a Chinese hatchet man. It was obvious that Lubber must have talked to too

Though he no longer expected to find the mysterious envelope on Lubber's person, The Shadow hoped that

Within a quarter minute, he made a significant find. Papers in an inside pocket bore the name of Lubber

The Shadow traced back the connection. The message that Lubber carried must have come from one of the

The Shadow had left the door of the room unlocked, and slightly open. On that account, he was doing as the

hatchet man had done. He was watching the door while he searched Lubber's body. His back to the wardrobe,

The evil killer saw gloved fingers probing Lubber's pockets. The Shadow's hand was coming to the coat

pocket that held the vital envelope. Slowly, the wardrobe drawer inched outward.

The hatchet man's present move was noiseless. His weight provided pressure that kept the drawer from

creaking, as his hands worked it outward. When the drawer had moved a scant foot forward, its occupant

Squeezing his thin body upward, the hatchet man raised head and shoulders from the drawer. His right claw

The Shadow's back was scarcely four feet from the wardrobe. Stooped, the cloaked searcher's form blotted

the rays from the gas jet, to obscure Lubber's body. The Shadow was just within the range that the hatchet

As he had watched Lubber, so did the hovering killer eye The Shadow. Stretched from the opened drawer, his

That time would come when The Shadow drew the envelope from Lubber's pocket. Once The Shadow saw

the message that bore the name Ying Ko, his attention would be concentrated. The hatchet man leered with

The killer would see The Shadow's gloved hand, for his higher position enabled him to peer across the

cloaked shoulder. Gloved fingers plucked something from Lubber's pocket. They drew the corner of the

envelope into view. The claw that held the looming hatchet tightened for its downward sweep.

The Shadow had reached the verge of death. His own action would become the signal that would bring the

THE crinkle of the envelope, the sight of its projecting corner told The Shadow that he had found something

that he did not expect. Both touch and sight proved that the envelope's substance was of Chinese texture.

The Shadow knew, without drawing the envelope farther, that it must be the one that bore the name Ying Ko.

A hatchet man had slain Lubber Kreef for a single purpose: to gain the message that the truck driver carried.

Since the envelope was still in Lubber's pocket, the killer could not have gone.

No chopping killer would be scared away, with his real work undone. Hatchet men were lurkers, who saw

their jobs through. The Shadow divined instantly that Lubber's murderer must still be in this room.

Two thoughts flashed simultaneously. One concerned the hiding place the only spot where the killer could

The Shadow's other consideration was the envelope. It was the cue that the murderer awaited for his next

These instantaneous conclusions came from The Shadow's knowledge of Chinese assassins and the methods

they employed. He knew that it would be fatal to draw that envelope farther. Once its inscribed characters

Death would be his lot, also, if he lingered; or tried to spring away. Hatchet men could lash with the

whipping speed of a cobra. There was only one way to meet the chopper's strategy. That was to restrain him

by offering even better opportunity. As long as the hatchet man saw a chance to improve his stroke, he would

With such tactics, The Shadow must avoid any suspicious move; he needed also to put himself in a position

from which he could deliver a counteracting thrust. The Shadow saw the proper measure. He began a bold,

Shifting slightly, he let his hand come from the envelope, to probe to another pocket, as if he had seen

something of more consequence than the envelope. That move did not arouse the hatchet man's suspicion, for

Moreover, The Shadow's change of position seemed advantageous to the killer. Cloaked shoulders were

backing closer to the wardrobe drawer. The head beneath the slouch hat had lifted. Instead of a chop for The

There was something, however, that the killer did not spy; he was too engrossed in watching The Shadow.

THE shift of the cloaked figure had brought The Shadow from the path of the gaslight. No longer was the

There, silhouetted upon the pool of blood, The Shadow saw the outline of the hatchet man's big head and

long, raised hand. Blocky blackness registered the shape of the hatchet. As effectively as with a mirror, The

Slowly, backward and upward, The Shadow brought his head and shoulders closer to the slayer. His face was

toward Lubber's body, but his eyes, hawklike, were watching telltale blackness. The Shadow's own

silhouette was creeping toward the killer's outlined profile. The hawkish visage would soon eclipse the

Before that came, The Shadow halted. He gave a sideward sway, then a forward feint, as though he intended

to stoop again. The killer above him saw opportunity. The hand drove its hatchet.

Timed to the first waver of the floor blot, The Shadow threw himself straight backward. His straightening

Down, over The Shadow's shoulder, came the slashing handax. The hatchet man had overswept his mark.

Had The Shadow swerved from his purpose and tried to stop the incoming lunge, he would have been too

Instead, The Shadow had gripped straight to another objective: the stretching body above him. His hands

clutched the scrawny Chinaman beneath the arms; gloved fists flung forward, as the hatchet circled for The

Lurched from the drawer, the killer was whipped through the air, his driving weapon halted short of The

Shadow's chest. Coming to his feet, The Shadow had jerked the lurking murderer completely from his hiding

Whirled in a headlong somersault, the hatchet man flew clear across Lubber's body and rolled halfway to the

door. For the first time, The Shadow actually sighted his grotesque adversary; and in the next few seconds, he

THE hatchet man seemed to turn himself inside out as he struck the floor. By an incredible twist, he changed

Half across the flattened shape of Lubber, The Shadow had not regained his balance from the hurling swing

by which he had catapulted the hatchet man. Unable to reach for an automatic, he could only manage to lunge

in under the wild swing of the killer's hatchet. The Chinaman had held his weapon despite the tumble.

The drive of the spidery Chinaman threw The Shadow back to balance. Gripping the killer's body with one

arm, The Shadow shoved a cloaked fist for the hand that had the hatchet. He reached as far as the killer's

forearm and gained the hold he wanted. For the next two minutes, the struggle was all to The Shadow's

Hard though the hatchet man lashed, he could not escape the python grip that The Shadow applied. Like

deadly coils, The Shadow's arms tightened, drawing the squirming killer into a stronger embrace. The yellow

face came before The Shadow's eyes. Dotted eyes were enlarged, bulging from their almondshaped sockets.

Nevertheless, the apish man was still tricky with his twists; any squirm might luckily free him.

The grapple had brought them beside the rear window. Bracing one foot against the heavy wardrobe, The

Shadow shifted his hold. He gave a terrific, outward lunge, smashing right through the window shade.

Long, twisted legs were hooked about The Shadow's body; he expected them to loosen from the force of that

fling. The hatchet man was scheduled for a lone dive to the porch roof below the window.

Instead, the killer jerked his hand sideways, despite The Shadow's grip. As the gloved fist loosened, to give

the yellow arm speed through the window, the Chinaman hooked his hatchet to the window frame. The

Shadow twisted about, half across the sill. He saw the hatchet chopping toward him. There was only one way

He carried the hatchet man with him. They were spinning as they struck the porch roof, and they divided the

shock between them. Then they were rolling down the slant the Chinaman trying madly to make another

The strugglers reached the roof edge. They locked upon the brink; hovered momentarily in the darkness.

That instant on the roof edge marked the real finish of The Shadow's struggle with the hatchet man. In the

What the killer sought and managed to get was a high, freearm position from which he could drive a

sure hatchet stroke when they landed in the courtyard. What The Shadow acquired was a momentary foothold

Headlong the two figures drove to the cement, the hatchet man first. The Shadow had transformed the fall

into a dive; there wasn't time for the grapplers to flatten, before they hit. They were diving at an angle when

His body acted like a shockabsorber. Coiling beneath The Shadow's weight, the killer crumpled from the

fists that gripped him. Shoulderfirst, The Shadow thumped the paving. His slouch hat squashed as his head

The cloaked fighter rolled over and lay motionless beside the doubled form of his spidery opponent.

WINDOWS opened. Roomers on the second floor stared into the darkness. They had heard the thump on the

roof; they looked for signs of the scufflers. Hearing nothing more, they forgot their curiosity. Some looked

upward; but they could not see the tattered remnants of the window shade that hung in Lubber's window.

Minutes lapsed. The Shadow stirred. Slowly, he came to his feet and sagged against the wall. His head began

to clear as he rested in the darkness. He found his tiny flashlight; flicked it on the mass of bone and flesh that

The hatchet man was dead. His skull was bashed; the twist of his head showed that his neck was broken also.

It was a long, spikish tooth, that the hatchet man carried in a pocket of his blouse. An inch in diameter at the

base, it tapered three inches to a sharp point. The tooth was too fantastic to be real; inspection showed The

He knew what this token represented. It was supposedly a dragon's tooth, symbol of the Jeho Fan, once a

Bound by secret vows, members of the Jeho Fan called themselves Teeth of the Dragon. The leaders of the

order used it to their own advantage. The rank and file were superstitious Mongols who actually believed that

the tokens they carried were teeth of some ancient dragon. Long defunct, the Jeho Fan had recently been

revived in China; and The Shadow had learned that it had also become active in San Francisco. Doctor Tam

had reported rumors concerning the Jeho Fan; but hadn't been able to acquire one of the toothtokens that its

The Shadow had gained a dragon's tooth himself, as fitting trophy of the battle he had waged against the

hatchet man who served as an assassin for the Jeho Fan. The Shadow kept the token. It could prove useful

No longer groggy, The Shadow tried to calculate how long he had lain senseless. The precise interval was

When he passed between houses on the rear row and came to the front street, he detected no sign of lurkers. It

seemed definite that other members of the Jeho Fan had not yet learned of their hatchet man's failure.

Moreover, The Shadow doubted that they would send a crew of their shock troops to this vicinity. The

minions of the Jeho Fan belonged in Chinatown; if they ventured far from the limits of that quarter, they

would not stay long. Their strength depended upon secrecy. They needed to remain where they could lose

KNOWING that limitation of the Jeho Fan, The Shadow took the old route that he had used to reach Lubber's

room, confident that he would encounter no more opposition when he found the envelope.

The room was exactly as The Shadow had left it. The halfopened wardrobe drawer, the ripped window

Neither signified a visit by The Shadow. The opened drawer appeared purely accidental; the torn shade

indicated only that Lubber's murderer had made a hurried exit. The body was lying as it had been when The

Stooping to Lubber's pocket, The Shadow felt for the envelopes. His fingers found nothing. Though no new

Alone in the room of death, The Shadow uttered a sinister, whispered laugh. The loss of that message might

hinder his plans; but it did not mean defeat. Instead, it gave The Shadow new urge to follow the dangerous

Curiously, the theft of the Chinese message was destined to bring The Shadow an advantage which even he

THE capture of the trawler Tantalus made big news in the morning dailies; but the evening newspapers

spread new sensation through San Francisco, when they told of later finds. Lubber's body was discovered

Theories were as hazy as the typical San Francisco fog. It was either a spite murder, because the Tantalus had

failed to deliver its full cargo; or Lubber had been chopped down because he might have known the name of

Whatever the case, Lubber was dead; and the hatchet man according to the newspapers had lost his hold

coming down from the window; hence his plunge to the cement. That statement amused The Shadow, when

he read it. The hatchet man had certainly lost his hold, but it had taken plenty of persuasion to make him do

Late in the afternoon, The Shadow entered the twentiethfloor offices of a large marineinsurance company.

Attired in street clothes, he tendered a card that bore the name "Lamont Cranston." When he asked to see Mr.

A girl was seated in the reception room; her desk bore the nameplate: "MISS RELDON." She was Vayne's

secretary; and she acted as receptionist. It would have been difficult to picture any young woman better suited

Miss Reldon had a distinct charm of feature and expression; her smile was the sort that would place any

visitor at ease. With that graciousness, she also possessed a brisk business manner that contrasted with her

That marked her as unusual. Her appearance, too, provided contrast. The girl had the light complexion of a

blonde; but her large, clear eyes were definitely brown. Her thin eyebrows were light in color; the fluff of her

hair made it seem lightbrown against the sunlight. The Shadow noted, though, that it was darker when

The girl sensed the piercing effect of Cranston's eyes. In her turn, she studied the visitor, while she pressed a

Despite a calm expression, a leisurely manner, Cranston impressed the girl as a most remarkable visitor. His

immobile face was masklike. His hawkish features suited his keen eyes. Strange eyes, that subdued when

others met them. Yet, with a quick, intuitive glance the sort that Miss Reldon could give it was possible

RICHARD VAYNE was standing behind his desk when the girl ushered Cranston into a sumptuous inner

office. Tall, with thin gray hair and birdlike eyes, Vayne had the square chin and firm handclasp of a man

He bowed Cranston to a chair; then noted that Miss Reldon had gone to a filing cabinet in the corner.

"The Transpacific policies," replied the girl. "The messenger will be here for them."

"This is our first meeting, Mr. Cranston, although we have held some correspondence. I knew that you would

"I came to express my thanks," Cranston's tone was even. "You did me a real favor, arranging my passage

"You leave for China tomorrow," nodded Vayne. "I wish you a delightful flight. When you return, I shall be

pleased if I can be of any other service. Perhaps" Vayne's smile broadened "there is something that I can

"There is," was Cranston's calm announcement. "I am here to request that you cancel my passage on the

Vayne sat back in his chair. He tried to smile, as though he thought the request a jest. Noting at last that

"I can cancel it," he assured, "quite readily, Mr. Cranston. But, really, I well, I just don't understand."

"Perhaps," observed Cranston, "you have learned the reason why I intended to go to China?"

"It is quite obvious," he admitted. "The Chinese government wants to raise one hundred million dollars,

immediately. Ten million, to pay the ransom of General Cho Tsing, who was kidnapped and carried to the

interior of China. The rest, to provide a national defense, which the abductors demand as part of the deal.

"The Chinese government prefers to float the loan through private individuals. Large interest payments will

be met, with the best of security. You, Mr. Cranston" Vayne's smile was wise "are not the only American

millionaire who is Chinabound, to be on the ground floor. But wait" Vayne's smile ended "you say that

FOR a moment, the glow of The Shadow's eyes was visible. Their burn seemed to bring light to the restrained

features of Cranston. The words that came from Cranston's straight lips offset that flash; for they were in the

"There is no need for a trip to China," emphasized the visitor. "The ransom of Cho Tsing will prove

Vayne's face looked doubtful. He shook his head as though he had heard other opinions regarding Chinese

affairs, and believed them unreliable. Cranston's gaze remained steady, adding emphasis to the words. Vayne

"You seem convinced, Mr. Cranston," he declared. "Very well. I shall arrange to cancel your reservation. Do

Cranston produced it. Vayne spoke to Myra Reldon. The girl came from the filing cabinet. She took the ticket

Some hidden thought was passing through the girl's mind. She, too, had heard the emphasis of Cranston's

statement. She was unable to fully hide her interest. But by the time that Cranston's eyes met hers, Myra had

"Mr. Cranston," he said, slowly, "I shall not ask the source of your information. Instead, I give you this

warning. Do not mention your opinion to any other person. I trust that you have not spoken to any one,

"Even one may be too many," warned Vayne, "if it should be the wrong one. Look; did you read this?"

Vayne picked up the morning newspaper. He tapped the paragraphs that referred to the capture of the

"The smuggling of Chinese is a common occurrence. It can have nothing to do with political disturbances in

"Those poor fellows came from China," he reminded. "Ignorant coolies, staking their life earnings to reach

America. Some one in China sold them the idea. Moreover, that is but one aspect of the case. Huge quantities

of opium have been reaching California. Matters today are more critical than they have been in years!"

FROM his desk, Vayne procured a batch of credentials, that he passed across to Cranston. They announced

that Richard Vayne was invested with the authority of the United States government, to conduct special

"For months," explained Vayne, "I have been working on these cases. This is confidential, Mr. Cranston;

strictly confidential. I have investigated dozens of boats like the Tantalus, and have found them clear of

"Then, like that!" Vayne snapped his fingers "a ship in good repute proves to be a bad one. Whatever I do

or plan, the word gets there ahead of me. We have searched for leaks, but have found none."

Vayne arose from his desk. He conducted Cranston to the window. Below, to the north, he pointed out the

sprawling buildings of Chinatown, dwarfed against the background of Telegraph Hill. To the east, he

indicated the long stretch of the massive bridge that led across the bay to Oakland.

"I live over there," stated Vayne, "although I spend some nights at an apartment here in San Francisco. I

never go near Chinatown. Nevertheless" he drilled his words with wags of his forefinger "the Chinese are

"They will spy upon you also, Mr. Cranston, if they suspect that you have pried into their affairs. There is a

fine, invisible line" Vayne drew his finger up and down "and to cross it means disaster. Remember that,

"Meanwhile" Vayne extended his hand for a parting shake "you must not visit here again. You are

another man who apparently knows too much. Since we belong to the same clan, it would be unwise for us to

VAYNE ushered Cranston to the outer office. Myra Reldon was busy at her desk; she looked up to see the

"Mr. Cranston!" called the girl. Then, as Cranston turned: "You will pardon me but I should really like you

to tell me at what time you are dining with Mr. Vayne; and where. He has a habit of forgetting the hour and

"But he has no other engagement." The girl referred to an appointment book; then laughed: "I understand.

You were the one who had a dinner date. You had to refuse Mr. Vayne's invitation."

"I have no engagement," remarked Cranston. "Nor did Mr. Vayne extend an invitation."

Myra's business manner ended. Her tone became a charming one; her words as subtle as they were honeyed.

"Mr. Vayne is so forgetful," she expressed. "Really, I know that he intended to dine with you. I should

remind him; but he is so sensitive about such matters. On the contrary, he would never forgive himself, if he

realized that no one entertained you during your stay in San Francisco. If I could only tell him "

"Yes," returned Myra. "But I would have to be honest about it. Whom do you know in San Francisco?"

"And, of course, myself." Myra smiled winningly. "Don't forget, Mr. Cranston, that you met me before you

Cranston's smile matched Myra's. They laughed together. The next suggestion was Cranston's.

"If I knew the right place to dine," he remarked. "Somewhere more secluded than a stodgy hotel "

"There is one," inserted Myra. "The Yangtse Restaurant. A Chinese place, but not in Chinatown. One might

The girl drew a diagram on a sheet of paper. She indicated the intersection of two streets; the building that

"You go up these," explained Myra. "Then to the left. You find a row of private dining rooms, all decorated

differently. The fourth room on the left, Room D, is the nicest. And real Chinese food. Since you aren't going

"But but " Myra's stammer was a clever pretense. "Really, Mr. Cranston, I didn't mean "

Myra's eyes met Cranston's. Their gaze held. With a slow, beautiful smile, the girl spoke softly:

MYRA'S smile vanished as soon as Cranston passed through the outer door. Her lips tightened; her whole

expression was completely changed. Quickly, the girl approached the door to the inner office.

She listened intently, to make sure that Vayne had not overheard her conversation with Cranston. Her face

Whether or not that smile betokened it, the future was established. When The Shadow kept his engagement

with Myra Reldon, he would step into danger far greater than last night's menace.

THE matter of the stolen message to Ying Ko was unknown to the newspapers; and The Shadow had not

discussed it with Richard Vayne. That subject was a live one, however, elsewhere in San Francisco.

Two men were seated in a garish apartment. One was Shiv Faxon, the waterfront racketeer. Shiv's

companion, who lived at this apartment, was another expert in the racket line. He was "Brig" Lenbold, an

opportunist who gave "protection" to a batch of secondrate night clubs that disliked trouble of the sort that

"So you found this on Lubber." Brig spoke gruffly, as he toyed with the Ying Ko envelope. "And he said it

"I must have got there pretty soon after the hatchet man croaked Lubber," informed Shiv, with a squint of his

Brig's growl was a contrast to Shiv's sharp tone. Their appearance, too, was different. Shiv was slender and

wiry; his tight lips and quick eyes gave the impression that he was guarding himself whenever he spoke.

Brig was husky; broadshouldered and bigfisted. He talked bluffly; when he said too much, his eyes glared

from the round sockets of his flattish face, as if warning listeners to forget what they had heard.

"Lubber got into a jam, showing that envelope to too many chinks. We don't want to do the same, Brig."

"Don't get jittery," rumbled Brig. "There's only one bird that's going to see it. He'll read it for us. Or else! He's

due here any minute." Brig looked through the window, to note the gathering dusk. "And he's coming here,

"Dow Yoang. A Chinee that wants to open a new hopjoint. He thinks I can fix it for him."

It was not long before Dow Yoang arrived. He looked like the keeper of an opium den. The Chinaman was

ratfaced, with slanting forehead. He studied Shiv suspiciously; then decided that Brig's companion was of

In an ugly, croaking tone, Dow Yoang began to hint about the hopjoint. Brig interrupted.

"Something else, first," he rasped. "Take a squint at this envelope, Dow Yoang. Who's it for?"

There was a grimace of Dow Yoang's tawny features. The Chinaman looked fearful, hunted, as though

suspecting a trap. A stare from Brig to Shiv reassured him. In company of such notorious crooks, the

Brig rubbed his chin. He knew plenty of Chinese bigshots by name, but he had never heard of Ying Ko. Nor

THAT was a bombshell. Brig reached for the envelope; but Shiv snatched it first, as if reminding that it was

his present property. Ripping open the envelope, Shiv unfolded a ricepaper note. It was written in Chinese.

Shiv handed it to Brig. "Read it for us," growled Brig, giving the note to Dow Yoang. "Give us the

The Chinaman hesitated, as his eyes scanned the characters. His delay was a mistake. Brig thrust his big face

"No stalling, Dow Yoang!" Brig's tone meant business. "If you try any phony stuff, we'll put the heat on you!

What's more" the next threat was potent "I know a couple of Chinese guys who don't like you, Dow

Yoang. I'll get one of them up here to read that letter, after you get through. If the two of you don't check "

"I will read it," babbled Dow Yoang. "It is wise that only one should know. But you must speak to no one!"

Carefully, Dow Yoang ran a longnailed forefinger from character to character, translating the letter in

"It is to Ying Ko, The Shadow," declared the Chinaman. "It says that the man who writes it is helpless. He is

held by enemies who call themselves" Dow Yoang twisted his lips; then caught a glare from Brig "who

Brig's big hand clamped the Chinaman's wrist. It was Brig who pointed to characters that looked like a

"What do those mean?" he demanded. "Aren't they the name of the guy that wrote the letter?"

Dow Yoang stared as though he had not previously noticed the signature. With a reluctant nod, he admitted:

Dow Yoang might have slipped that past Brig Lenbold. The husky racketeer was trying to connect Cho Tsing

with Chinatown. Shiv Faxon's quick thoughts went farther than San Francisco. Shiv became excited.

"Cho Tsing!" he exclaimed. "He's that chink general that was snatched! A bunch of bandits took him to some

Shiv's tight lips spread. His beady eyes became very wise. Dow Yoang shifted nervously. He knew the guess

"That letter," Shiv told Brig, "was given to a guy on the Tantalus. It means that Cho Tsing isn't in China. It

tells why old Cap Malhearn was crazy enough to ditch his trawler. There was one chink that he had to put

"That tells it!" he boomed. "The guys that snatched Cho Tsing couldn't swing the deal in China. That's why

they smuggled him over here. What a setup! They can't be grabbed for staging a snatch that wasn't done in

"They've paid Malhearn plenty to take the rap, on a smuggling charge. He's keeping mum, so he won't get

himself in worse. The guys that are holding Cho Tsing can claim they thought he was just another Chinaman,

if it comes to a pinch. Say, Dow Yoang" Brig swung suddenly "what was the name of that outfit?"

Dow Yoang became evasive. No one knew much about the Jeho Fan. The order was supposed to exist in

China only. If members were in San Francisco, they must have come here recently, without any one's

"It is possible," he admitted, "yes, very possible, that the Jeho Fan is active in San Francisco. The members

That question hit home. It was plain, from his wince, that Dow Yoang knew the answer. The grimace ended:

"There is one man," declared Dow Yoang, "who is neutral in all Chinese affairs. He is Li Sheng, the

merchant. The hospitality of Li Sheng is unbounded. His home would be the proper place to receive so

The racketeers had heard of Li Sheng. The merchant's residence was situated within a half block of solid,

squatty houses in Chinatown. It was an oasis of elegance, secluded amid the ugliest of slums. There was an

arched passage, with big gates at its inner end, that afforded the only entrance to the home of Li Sheng.

"So we've got to get to Li Sheng." grated Brig. "How do we manage that, Dow Yoang?"

"It is very easy," informed Dow Yoang. "All are welcome through the portals of Li Sheng. Go there, and

"Perhaps you will learn much from your visit," he remarked. "Perhaps not. At least, you will make the

DOW YOANG looked pleased. Shiv coolly drew a cigarette from his pocket; as he was lighting it, he spoke a

Dow Yoang didn't understand hog latin. He missed the inference of that "nix" that Brig caught. What came

next was up to Brig. Shiv had hopes. They increased, as Brig began to talk very openly.

"We're going into the snatch racket ourselves," declared Brig. "This is a natural; we can't pass it up. We'll

snatch Cho Tsing from Li Sheng and put him in bad with the Jeho Fan. That bunch can't squawk to the Feds.

We'll send Li Sheng a note, calling for a fiftyfifty split. We'll get our divvy when they're ready to collect

Brig stepped to the door; he placed his hand on the knob, while he beckoned to Dow Yoang. As the

"Five hundred grand for you, Dow Yoang. Half a million bucks, American money! Just for reading that letter,

Brig was nodding as he spoke. The motion of his head was meant for Shiv. The wiry racketeer stepped up

behind Dow Yoang, laid his left hand on the Chinaman's right shoulder. Dow Yoang turned, in the direction

Shiv's right hand whipped upward from beneath his coat. The long, driving thrust came too quickly for Dow

Yoang to even see the glimmer from Shiv's fist. A tapering, thinbladed knife burrowed to the Chinaman's

Shiv was searching the victim's body before the last writhe ended. Just as Dow Yoang stiffened in death, Shiv

found the object that he wanted. He held it up for Brig's inspection. It was identical with the whitish spike

"A dragon's tooth," declared Shiv. "Like I figured it, Dow Yoang was with the Jeho Fan."

"Sure," agreed Brig. "But they won't know he was up here. We'll get rid of this" he nudged toward the body

"Only we won't go to see Li Sheng," added Shiv. "It's a bet that his joint is being cased by the Jeho Fan.

"I'm thinking of a way to get to Li Sheng," announced Brig. "There are guys that can tell us what his place is

Brig spoke with solid assurance. Shiv didn't ask the details. He reached down to pluck up the letter to Ying

Ko. Dow Yoang had dropped it; he had been handing it to Brig when Shiv's interruption came.

"One thing else this letter tells us, Brig," chuckled Shiv. "The Shadow is out of the picture. He don't even

SHIV FAXON would have been astonished, and Brig Lenbold likewise, had they guessed how much The

Shadow did know. Like these racketeers, The Shadow was concerned with the fate of General Cho Tsing.

These crooks would meet The Shadow later, unless circumstances intervened in their behalf.

At that, the odds favored the crooks. Unlike the racketeers, The Shadow was ready to begin his action by a

AT half past seven, Myra Reldon was in the living room of a small apartment, when a key turned in the lock.

Another girl entered; her face was pale, her eyes troubled. She was Helen Toriss, who shared the apartment

"I've just come from dinner," informed Helen, "and I'm sure that there are Chinese watching this house!"

"Probably," answered Myra. "They spy on Mr. Vayne. I am his secretary, so it is natural that they would

Calmly, Myra arose, with the remark that she must turn off the water in the bathtub. She added that she had a

"They won't be close," assured Myra. "I'll go down the fire tower, like I have before. They won't see me. Just

"Please call the Yangtse Restaurant, Helen. Tell them that if I am not there by half past eight, I won't be able

Myra went through her bedroom, to the connecting bathroom. She locked the door that led into Helen's room.

When he finished her bath, Myra donned an oversized Turkish bathrobe and stepped into a pair of slippers.

Coming through the bedroom, she peered into the living room. Helen had forgotten the menace of the

Myra closed the bedroom door and locked it with care. She went to a bed in the corner and grasped a strap

that hung from the end of the box spring. A large, secret drawer slid into view.

That drawer was filled with garments quite different from Myra's clothes, that lay upon a chair. It also

contained a flat makeup kit and a large jar of cold cream. The makeup box was all that Myra wanted, for

The girl carried the kit to a dressing table. She slid her arms from the sleeves of the bathrobe. Lifting her

arms, she wrapped the robe tightly about her body, above the level of her elbows. Tying the sleeves together,

THE mirror showed her lighthued face; her shapely shoulders and slender arms, smooth and white like

ivory. That reflection told that Myra would have been extraordinarily attractive in an evening gown, thanks to

From the makeup kit, Myra took a sponge and a bottle of yellowish fluid. Unsparingly, she daubed the thick

liquid on her hands and wrists; swept the sponge up to her shoulders. Her face, her throat were next; using a

She tapered the color downward from her neck and shoulders, until the yellow lessened and blended with the

whiteness. Above the bathrobe, Myra's face, neck and arms all possessed an even yellow tone.

Still she would have looked well in an evening gown, but her complexion belonged to a Chinese beauty.

Perfect though the dye was, cold cream would remove it swiftly. Later, Myra could regain her whiteness as

Myra removed fluffs of false hair. Her real hair was darker brown. It seemed almost black when Myra

combed it straight and pressed it thickly. From above her forehead, she combed short locks downward.

With makeup pencil, Myra matched her eyebrows to the bangs. She rouged her face cleverly, to give it a

highcheeked effect. Artful work with a lipstick made her mouth appear more pursed.

For a finish, Myra used two tiny strips of transparent mending tape. She moistened them; applied one to the

outer corner of each eye. Carefully, she drew the strips outward, pressed them against her skin, creasing the

bits of tape with her finger nails. Flesh covered the drawn strips, rendering them invisible. Myra's eyes were

totally changed. From a roundish shape, they had gained a cunning, almond slant. They looked black,

The face that peered from the mirror bore no resemblance to Myra Reldon's. It was the visage of a Chinese

Kicking off her slippers, Myra listened as she unwrapped the bathrobe. There was no sound from Helen.

She dressed rapidly, for all the garments were in perfect arrangement. When she was dressed, she replaced

Black crepe slippers; black silk skirt. Above, an embroidered jacket with high, military collar, close about the

neck. Long bellsleeves, black like the body of the jacket, showed embroidered cuffs that matched the wide

Myra slipped a large jade ring upon one finger; she raised her hand to display it, as she posed in front of a

fulllength mirror. Her lips wreathed a bitter smile, like the one she had shown when alone in the office.

That smile suited the Chinese girl that she saw in the mirror. That singsong damsel looked smaller than

STEALTHILY, the Oriental figure approached the door; listened, then spoke in the voice of Myra Reldon,

"I am going out." The tone was odd, from those Chinese lips. "Just walk down the hall, as far as the elevator,

Helen complied. She had furnished this precaution in the past. As soon as the outer door closed, Myra turned

her own key and stepped from the bedroom. Crouching, she hurried through the kitchenette and unlocked a

door to the fire tower. She was descending in darkness, before Helen returned to the apartment.

No Chinese were near the back of the secluded apartment house. Spying eyes could not see the girl's slinky

figure, as she came from the fire tower. But it would not be long before she would encounter a prowler. Myra

knew that from past experience. Occasionally, on these excursions, she met a challenge.

Tonight, watchers were more prevalent than usual. That was why Helen had noticed them.

Skirting the courtyard in back of an adjoining apartment house, Myra heard some one in the darkness. Her

hands were close to her embroidered jacket. She stretched one arm, to feel a brick wall. Instantly, a clawlike

The girl's other hand pressed a flashlight. It showed her upraised hand, with its yellow dye, gripped by fingers

of the same hue. Her hand was fisted; she unclenched it. From her palm glistened the white shape of a

Myra tilted the flashlight to show her disguised face. The same rays revealed the leering visage of a

"Ming Dwan!" The accoster spoke the name in a tone of respect. Then, in babbled Chinese: "We are keeping

"Make sure that the girl does not attempt to leave her abode," she ordered. "If any one must enter, send word

The Chinaman mumbled his obedience. Extinguishing the flashlight, Myra continued to the street. She took a

course that led to Chinatown a fact that explained why she had suggested that Cranston meet her at the

THAT cafe, on the fringe of Chinatown, was one place where the girl could appear either as Myra Reldon or

Her possession of the dragon's tooth; the command that she held over those watchers, told that Ming Dwan

belonged to the inner circle of the Jeho Fan. The rank and file carried the same tokens; but they took orders.

The minions of the Jeho Fan believed Ming Dwan to be a genuine Chinese. No traitor could ever blab that

she was actually the American girl, Myra Reldon. That chance was spiked by the policy that the Jeho Fan

Richard Vayne believed that his secretary was entirely loyal to the cause that he had sworn to uphold, that of

uncovering the Chinese smuggling ring. Myra had told him that Chinese had watched her apartment. Vayne

Therein lay Myra's cleverness. She had concealed her true identity even from members of the inner circle; it

Myra wanted the Jeho Fan to keep actual watch upon her actions, so that her alibi would be a real one. In that

Whenever Myra forwarded information to the Tao Fan, insidious leader of the Chinese group, she saw that it

took a roundabout course. That was not difficult. Ming Dwan belonged in Chinatown, where, as the only

The Tao Fan had paved the opportunity that enabled the girl to play her double part. He wanted Ming Dwan

to appear only at night; to keep her abode a secret. She was a mystery to the inner circle of the Jeho Fan; the

Tao liked it all the better when she became something of a mystery to him, as well.

Pride in her own secret methods could have produced the pursedlip smile that Ming Dwan displayed, when

she reached the streets of Chinatown this night. Soon she would meet more members of the Jeho Fan. After

The arrival of Ming Dwan would have much effect upon the future plans of the gentleman who called himself

There would be a surprise for The Shadow, when Ming Dwan kept the date that Myra Reldon had made.

IN his suite at a fashionable San Francisco hotel, Lamont Cranston was donning tuxedo for his dinner date

with Myra Reldon. He adjusted his black bow tie in front of a mirror. As he did, he kept a watchful eye upon

Two spots were of particular importance: the door to the hallway, which had a transom above it; a

The Shadow had made sure that those were the only two directions from which danger could come.

Since his coat and vest were still in the closet, Cranston stepped away from the mirror, picking up a watch

and chain that lay upon the bureau. He pushed a chair aside; its scrape told that he was changing his position

Stepping in the opposite direction. Cranston approached the closet. He was glancing at his watch, noting the

time as quarter past eight. The watch was an oldfashioned type, with hinged front.

The polished gold interior of that watch front made a perfect mirror as Cranston's hand turned it.

Keen eyes caught the reflection of the window, still blank. As the watch turned, eyes spied the transom. A

face disappeared from the transom. Some spy had bobbed up in the hallway, to note Cranston's actions.

The fellow was gone, confident that Cranston would be busy for the next few minutes looking for his coat

and vest. That was why Cranston halted. Swinging the closet door almost open, he stepped beyond it. Against

A sighing hiss reached The Shadow's ears. He could not have detected it had he been inside the closet. The

sound must have been uttered from some hallway window, for it came faintly through the courtyard.

Yellow face and hand came over the sill of Cranston's window. A limber Chinaman swung to the carpet. His

right hand, following his body, had a grip upon a hatchet. This new assassin looked as vicious as the one that

Though the newcomer lacked the hideous, spidery proportions of his dead associate, the long stalk that he

As he reached the opened closet door, the hatchet man swerved; he poised for a powerful forward spring,

The Shadow heard the suckish intake of the killer's breath; knew that the leap was due. With a hard, onearm

The whizzing barrier smashed against the hatchet man before he could dive from its path. With sideward

sprawl, the invader cracked against a radiator in the corner, losing his hatchet when it clanged the metal.

Cranston's long form followed the door's sweep. His arms pinned beneath him, his throat pressed by choking

Soon, the hatchet man lay bound and gagged in the closet, where the inside spy could release him later.

Cranston's bags were on their way downstairs, to be checked by the porter. Smoothing his tuxedo coat,

THE departing guest carried one small piece of luggage with him from the hotel. It was a pliable briefcase;

Entering a taxi, Cranston gave an address not far from the Yangtse Restaurant. Before the cab reached its

destination, a wadded bill thumped the driver's knee. He noticed it, because it was weighted with coins inside.

Stopping, the taxi man picked up the money. He looked into the back seat; turned on the light.

The Shadow had donned black garments from the briefcase. Leaving the cab while it was halting, he had

Along darkened, steeppitched streets, The Shadow had become a swiftly gliding wraith. He was taking a

short route to the Yangtse Restaurant, to make up for the minutes that he had lost at the hotel.

The Tao had gained an exact description of Lamont Cranston. Whether or not the Tao identified Cranston

with The Shadow, he had certainly learned that Cranston was not the sort to be sidetracked by one

The Tao Fan had sent the hatchet man to Cranston's hotel, believing that any outcome would be

advantageous. If the hatchet man had slain Cranston, it would have suited the plans of the Jeho Fan. The

It gave Cranston reason to suppose that the Jeho Fan was not informed of his date with Myra Reldon.

Perhaps The Shadow had been deceived by that bit of trickery. True, since discarding the guise of Cranston,

he was traveling with utmost stealth. That, however, was The Shadow's usual policy when venturing on

The Yangtse Restaurant was a place of good reputation; but it was close to Chinatown, the headquarters of

the Jeho Fan. The hatchet man in the hotel room had come from the Chinese district. That was sufficient

In New York's underworld, The Shadow had the reputation of moving unseen, to arrive suddenly in the midst

of startled foemen. Ying Ko was credited with the same ability in San Francisco's Chinatown.

THE side street by the Yangtse seemed deserted. The Shadow entered a blackened doorway; found the stairs

with silence, amid utter darkness. Lights should have been gleaming from the hallway above. There was

none. The gloom was wellsuited for a secret entry, either by Lamont Cranston or The Shadow. That,

The Shadow suspected lurkers all along the route. As he paused on the stairs, he could almost hear the

breathing of hidden men. If such were here, one misstep could mean death. The same was true when The

Any lurking Chinese were disappointed, without realizing it. Guiding by the wall, The Shadow picked out

doorways with the touch of his gloved fingers. He arrived at Room D without a betraying sound. He tried the

By the feel alone, The Shadow could tell that the door rubbed a thick carpet, the sort that would block out

light when he closed it. Shutting the door as noiselessly as he had opened it, The Shadow felt along the wall

He did not press it. Instead, he edged away until he encountered another object, which he identified as a

wheeled serving table. Reaching out, The Shadow discovered something that he expected: a threefold screen

The wheels could squeak, despite precaution. That was one reason why The Shadow slid the screen instead.

Reaching to full arm's length, The Shadow fingered the switch and stroked it downward. With the motion, he

wheeled away; the rapid spin carried him behind the screen. Though light came instantly, the quickest eye

The glare showed a dining room, decorated with Chinese murals. At the far side of the room, curtains

intervened between the paintings. Peering through the crack of the screen, The Shadow saw the heavy drapes

Eyes peered; the curtains opened. Each delivered a pair of squatty Mongols, who swept the hanging aside as

if by signal. They blinked; their pockish faces looked puzzled. Each of the four held a revolver; but none

knew where to aim. Their natural target was the light switch, where some one should have been. No one was

These guntoting tools of the Jeho Fan lacked the cunning of the hatchet men. A crafty killer might have

suspected the ornamental screen as The Shadow's hiding place; but the gun squad stared blankly.

The lights were on; some one must have been at the switch. There was no hiding place near by. The best

guess that the Mongols could make was that some one had reached through the door, to get at the switch.

Where the mirth came from was a mystery. It crept with quivering, whispered echoes from the walls of the

WITH a sharp clack, the screen was swept aside. The noise made the gun squad turn. There, flanking them,

The Shadow had used one hand to sweep aside the screen; the other fist waggled a .45 automatic in a slow arc

The Shadow's lips voiced a low command in the language that the Mongols knew. One move from any

member of the squad would mean instant death to all. Such words, coming from Ying Ko, were to be

The Shadow let his foemen hold their guns. He knew that a Chinese gunner invariably kept an empty

chamber under the hammer. Any of the four who tried attack would need two trigger tugs before he could

The Chinese knew that The Shadow could wither them. They stared sullenly, wondering what he would do

They saw Ying Ko sidestep toward the door. A quick tug of the knob a crouching Chinaman took a sprawl

in from the hall. Another tried to leap away. The Shadow caught him with a forearm bend and hauled the

All the while, he covered the original four. Before the newly tricked pair could aim from the floor, The

Shadow's free hand opened before their eyes. In the gloved palm lay the dragon's tooth that The Shadow had

The pair lowered their guns; The Shadow's open hand went from sight beneath his cloak. It whipped into

view again, this time with an automatic. A brace of big guns unlimbered, The Shadow held six Chinese

There was only one course open. The Shadow intended a false move toward the hall. Then quick shots, to

quell the trapped Chinese when they began their fire. Clipping a few of them would scatter the rest. Then The

Squarely in the center of the doorway, The Shadow was ready for the action, when he caught a sound from

the gloomy hall. It was not the creep of more gunbearing Mongols; instead, The Shadow recognized the soft

He gestured his automatics toward the men in the room; as they cowered, The Shadow leaned back into the

In that quick glance, he saw the girl who was known to the Chinese as Ming Dwan.

The girl's arms were folded lightly, each palm resting flat just above the other wrist. Her smile was solemn;

The voice of Ming Dwan spoke words in quainttoned English. Her speech was low, reassuring; pitched so

The Shadow listened. Ming Dwan stopped short enough so that she could not be seen from the room. The

promise that she gave was aid, that could prove timely to The Shadow. Her utterances were persuasive; they

Where a crew of Mongol gunners had failed to influence the formidable Ying Ko, this mystery girl of

Chinatown was smoothly gaining the result she wanted. Still covering the armed men, The Shadow could

Those eyes alone betrayed the fact that the girl did not intend to keep the promise that she spoke. The trust

that the dulcet voice inspired was to produce a consequence quite different from the result that The Shadow

THE first words that Ming Dwan breathed seemed proof that the Chinese girl had brought a message from a

"Some one was to meet you here," informed Ming Dwan, softly. "Some one who could not come. She was in

"There are enemies below," continued Ming Dwan. "Many enemies. You, Ying Ko, can conquer them; but

"You must trust in me." The tone was earnest. "I, Ming Dwan, can command the ones that you hold helpless.

Silent, Ming Dwan watched for a sign of reply. She saw The Shadow's head incline. The nod brought a curled

Ming Dwan stepped close. Her elbow pressed The Shadow's. The nudge was gentle; her spoken word was a

Even the girl's whisper seemed laden with a fragrant perfume, that surrounded her exotic presence. One hand

moved slightly, to touch The Shadow's cloaked arm. Lulled by that mild pressure, The Shadow obeyed Ming

Two straight steps forward brought the cloaked fighter almost upon the cowering Chinese. Huddled, those

foemen were loosening their fingers, anxious to drop their guns before Ying Ko showed his full wrath. It was

Squinty eyes could scarcely believe it when they saw the girl step calmly in beside The Shadow.

Ming Dwan's smile ended. At The Shadow's elbow, she gave her first sign of hesitation. Ming Dwan had

expected to see the gun squad helpless but never so beaten as they appeared. She pursed her lips tightly,

wondering if her secret scheme could work. Then came a stir among the men who hunched before The

Conflict of thoughts deluged the brains behind those yellow faces. The boldness of Ming Dwan made them

realize that The Shadow was human. But when the girl spoke, their return of savagery made them rebel.

They hesitated. The Shadow backed the order with a gesture of his automatics. Revolvers fell from sullen

hands. Glares were directed at Ming Dwan. The Mongols suspected that she had betrayed them.

The jade ring glittered from Ming Dwan's left fist. The sparkle disappeared as the girl turned her knuckles

toward the huddled men and opened her fingers. She displayed the token of the Jeho Fan.

"By this dragon's tooth," spoke Ming Dwan, firmly, "I promise death to any one who disobeys! Not one hand

Glares ended. Mongols remembered that Ming Dwan held full authority from the Tao Fan, their merciless

They heard the whispered laugh of The Shadow and it irked them. But, as that tone ended, they saw the hard

"Remember. No one is to move " As she gave those words, Ming Dwan whipped her right hand from her

left arm. A tiny revolver glittered; its muzzle jabbed cold against The Shadow's neck, below his ear. In

CROUCHING Mongols showed their fangish, yellowed teeth in ugly joy. Ming Dwan had shown her mettle.

One press of her tapered forefinger would mean death to Ying Ko. The Shadow's big guns were useless.

Sneaky bands were creeping, crablike, for dropped revolvers, when Ming Dwan stopped them. Her command

"Ying Ko will drop his guns," the girl told them. "When I speak the word, you will capture him alive. He is to

Exuberance seized the Mongols. They knew that Ying Ko had heard the girl's decision. They saw her press

the gun muzzle deeper. They heard the fierce hiss from Ming Dwan's lips, giving The Shadow his choice of

Gloved hands opened. Big automatics thudded the floor. Ming Dwan beckoned to the eager squad. The

attackers sprang upon The Shadow, smothering his cloaked form to the floor. While Ming Dwan watched,

They were snarling gleefully, those Mongols, promising Ying Ko an unhappy future. Quick death from a

revolver was better far than the fate that the Tao would declare. Ying Ko was a fool, as he would learn.

Ming Dwan ordered silence. The Shadow's hat had tilted back; she saw the face of Cranston staring up from

the floor. Despite his predicament, The Shadow met Ming Dwan with burning eyes, that appraised her as

The girl's lips contorted into a downward smile. She was confident that even The Shadow could not penetrate

Grasping clawish hands hoisted The Shadow from the floor. Like pallbearers, the Chinese began their slow,

triumphant march from the room. Ming Dwan followed; she passed them in the hall. The first to reach the

Lights appeared. A dozen waiting Chinese chattered their evil delight when Ming Dwan pointed to The

Ming Dwan silenced those appreciations. Her face showed triumph; and well it might. She had told that lower

squad to remain downstairs, while she went to learn what had happened above. They had reluctantly obeyed

They knew, at last, that Ming Dwan was more capable than an entire horde of battling Chinese.

THERE was a rear route from the Yangtse Restaurant, and that was the course that the procession followed.

A truck was waiting in a steep, narrow street. Outwardly, it looked like a vehicle due for the junkyard; but

The inside of the truck was metallined. Bolted to the center of the floor was a square cage of huge iron bars,

so crisscrossed that a hand could not be thrust through. The Shadow saw it by the glare of flashlights and

The contrivance was designed to make its occupant as uncomfortable as possible. Within it, a prisoner could

neither stand, lie down, nor seat himself. Bad enough under ordinary conditions, it was to prove worse for

The Shadow; for his captors did not unbind him. Instead, they doubled his body with vicious pressure and

Four Chinese boarded the truck and squatted at the corners of the cage. A hanging electric lantern showed

His head tilted sideways, The Shadow saw Ming Dwan look into the back of the truck, to make sure that the

The Shadow knew the rules that governed societies such as the Jeho Fan. Torture was their favorite sport; and

There was no doubt that Ming Dwan would provide unique measures for The Shadow's future entertainment.

Those would come after the Tao gave the command for death. Even the brutal strokes of a hatchet man would

be soothing, compared to the torture devices that would be at Ming Dwan's disposal.

The back of the truck clamped shut. The journey that followed was a constant reminder of the punishment

that the Jeho Fan could give to prisoners. The driver took a twisty course. Perhaps he was making sure that

the truck was not followed, but it seemed that he was making the tortuous turns for The Shadow's benefit.

The grades of those San Francisco streets rolled The Shadow forward and backward; every swing of the truck

hurled him against the side of the cage. The swinging lantern was rocking like a pendulum, its rays sending

Steadying themselves by gripping the corners of the cage, the Chinese guards bared their teeth in smiles of

relish, as they watched The Shadow's form go through its pretzel twists. Every time his face bashed the bars,

When a hard jolt cracked The Shadow's head against the cage door, the watchers grimaced their

disappointment, to see his face slump forward to his knees. With Ying Ko senseless, the fun was ended.

The stopping of the truck partially revived The Shadow. His eyes opened weakly as he heard the clank of the

lifting door. He shook his head to toss away the blood that trickled from a gash above his forehead.

Guards hauled him from the cage; his limbs pained, as they were stretched from their cramped position. The

Shadow felt his hat fall from his head; a pair of grimy yellow hands plucked it from the ground and jammed

There were a few breaths of fresh air; then four carriers took their battered prisoner through a street door, into

a blackened passage. They came to a stony, squareshaped room with a single light. A door opened to

He was passed to another group of bearers. Down stony steps, through a narrow corridor where water

trickled. More darkness; finally, a hard thump as his captors dropped him on a slab in the corner of a

pitchblack room. There was the tramp of departing footsteps; a long, monotonous wait.

At last, the click of a secret door. New hands found The Shadow in the darkness; lifted him for another

journey down a flight of Stygian steps. Though wearied, The Shadow could hear the babble of these carriers;

The Shadow's new custodians were members of the inner circle. Soon, the prisoner would face the chosen

few who ruled the Jeho Fan. In a burrowed lair, beneath the streets of Chinatown, the mighty Tao would

THE underground headquarters of the Jeho Fan was the most grotesque meeting place that The Shadow had

ever seen. Secreted among forgotten catacombs of Chinatown, its location was untraceable. Confident that

the stronghold would ever be secure, the Jeho Fan had spent a fortune in its embellishment.

The result was a garish, hideous medley that resembled an opium smoker's nightmare.

The square room was illuminated by a sickly, greenish glow. In that olivetinged light, The Shadow saw

monstrous faces peering down from every corner. They were huge statues, each of a Chinese joss, that stood

as tenfoot guardians over the meetings of the Jeho Fan. Carried on the shoulders of four men, The Shadow

The odd light was hurtful when The Shadow stared upward, for it glared from a ceiling dome. The Shadow

closed his eyes; he felt himself lowered to the stone floor. There, he lay silent, while hands used knives to

slash his bonds. Slowly, The Shadow came to a halfseated position. He opened his eyes.

Looking about, the cloaked prisoner viewed the entire room. He saw two brass doors at the end of the room

from which he had arrived; between them, a low platform. At the other end of the meeting place was a huge

From that floor, more statues were visible, set between the giant images that stood in the corners. Some were

figures of Chinese devils, slightly larger than lifesize. Others were dwarfish idols, squatted upon taborets.

On the walls were tapestries, with woven dragons of silver and gold. Their coils were twisted as in combat;

The dragons evidently symbolized the Jeho Fan. The huge joss figures would be logical in any Chinese

meeting place. But The Shadow could not understand the purpose of the devil images; nor why there were so

many. What perplexed him more was the absence of the Jeho Fan. Even the carriers who had brought him

Hazily, The Shadow was recovering from his daze. Objects began to take clear shape in the unnatural green

light. A few moments more, The Shadow would have made a discovery of his own accord. A boomed voice

The tone came from the platform. As The Shadow looked in that direction, the devils came to life.

They were the inner circle of the Jeho Fan, garbed in grotesque costumes; each wearing a leering head. Such

costumes were used in Chinese ceremonies; but they looked different than any that The Shadow had

previously seen. The green light was responsible. It absorbed the colors; gave the costumes the dull tint of old

The echoing tone had come from the central figure on the platform. He stepped forward; others spread apart

Another monstrous member clanged a huge gong that sent long reverberations through the room. The sound

dwindled, step by step; when its last faint clangor sounded, the members were in their places.

TWO of the demons stepped from the side walls. They clamped hands upon The Shadow's shoulders, hauled

him to his feet. Their hands were covered with heavy gauntlets, spiked with metal that dug through the

prisoner's cloak. With a forward sweep, the pair sprawled The Shadow at the feet of the Tao Fan.

The leader delivered an ugly, basso laugh. It brought a response from the devilmembers. Their harsh mirth

was loudened within the domed room, giving it a demoniac fury. The chorus ended. The dozen members of

"You are Ying Ko." The Tao spoke in lowpitched, choppy English. "You are an enemy to the Jeho Fan.

The Tao waited. Slowly rising, The Shadow looked into the white orbs of false eyes that bulged from the

devilmask. He could see the glitter of evil eyes within. His answer was a sinister laugh; the square walls

plucked it. The mirth became an amplified peal that shivered the thick atmosphere.

By contrast, the concerted glee of the Jeho Fan was pitiful. The Shadow's challenge told that he understood

the acoustic properties of these walls, where any small sound could be magnified. The Shadow was treating

Just how that impressed the Tao, could not be discerned. The oversize head that covered his own enabled him

to keep his facial expressions to himself. When he spoke, however, his clipped tone was as harsh as before.

The voice issued an insidious pronouncement from the bigfanged mouth of the demon's head.

"You choose to die," declared the Tao. "Remember, Ying Ko, there is such a thing as choice of death."

The Shadow's manner was indifferent. The Tao raised his clawshaped gauntlets, clapped his hands together.

Two of the Jeho Fan stepped from the dais. Pointing to The Shadow, the Tao ordered:

THEY took The Shadow to the far end of the room. One of the demonish members opened the great chest;

laid the lid against the wall. He pointed for The Shadow to peer downward. As he did, The Shadow heard a

The chest was the sham covering of a tube that extended down into the wall at an angle of fortyfive degrees.

The tube was a large, smoothlined pipe, some four feet in diameter. At the end of fifteen feet, it was blocked

The tube went farther beyond, merging into darkness. The Shadow watched; a second later, the glitter

The edge of a gigantic cleaver slithered across the tube. The Shadow's own reflection was mirrored from it,

remaining constant upon the moving blade. In fact, the massive slicer did not seem to be moving at all, until

its back edge came into view. Then it was gone again, only to complete the circuit a second later.

Half a minute passed, while The Shadow stared as if fascinated by the constant reappearance of the blade.

The purpose of the device was obvious. It was used to deliver death a doom that could never be escaped by

The Shadow could picture the varied experiences of past victims, all of which had ended in the same result.

Sliding body, released from the mouth of the tube, would be no more than halfway through when the slicer

chopped. Its speed was timed accordingly. That would happen if the person arrived after the rear of the steel

If a skidding body arrived when the tube was blocked, the force of its slide would be halted. Once the blade

passed, no one could cling to the slippery interior of the tube. The slide would begin again. As surely as a

sucking whirlpool, the victim would go to doom. If he tried to scramble through, it would be no use.

With the momentum of a slide once lost, sufficient speed could not be regained to avoid the inevitable blade.

The masked members of the Jeho Fan produced a dummy figure, of human size. This would show the

fearless Ying Ko how the big blade worked. The dummy was weighted; they let slide, while the silvery

For an instant, the dummy's slide was unimpeded; then the massive knife swung through to cleave it squarely

A handclap from the Tao; the sound was hollow in that room. Masked men brought The Shadow back to the

"You have seen, Ying Ko," pronounced the Tao. "I tell you that our other tortures are such that you will

"You received a letter from the General Cho Tsing," he announced. "Tell us the import of that letter. I shall

A figure stepped suddenly to the dais; hugegloved hands lifted to whip off the demon's head. The member

who interrupted the Tao Fan was Ming Dwan. The greenish light, catching the yellow dye, gave an olive hue

The girl's teeth were gritted. In that glow, Ming Dwan's face was more demonish than the mask that had

"The prisoner is mine, Tao!" spoke Ming Dwan, in Chinese. "I demand the right to name a torture. Your

The Tao stood motionless; then from the depths of his mask came the announcement:

"My promise was unwise; but it was given. If Ying Ko speaks, he will die without torture."

Ming Dwan faced The Shadow. Her eyes caught the greenish light; they gleamed catlike between their drawn

lids. Furious, the girl seemed ready to strike down the prisoner if he denied her the right to have him tortured.

The Shadow did not speak. Ming Dwan leered toward the Tao, awaiting his decision. The masked leader

gave the nod that the girl awaited. Ming Dwan eyed The Shadow, like a cat above its prey. Suddenly, her

"You are right, Ming Dwan," acknowledged the leader. "Ying Ko must be made to speak. Therefore, you

"That cell, Ying Ko" the Tao's false eyes were upon The Shadow "is where men lose their reason, when

they breathe the gas we call the Dragon's Breath. Hours will pass; perhaps a day, or more; at last, your tongue

"All that you know will be spoken. There is no escape from the Dragon's Cell. Outside it, there will be one

The Tao clapped his hands, appointing followers to carry away The Shadow. His eyes turned toward the men

The Shadow's right hand went beneath his cloak, where there no longer was a gun. It came out bare, its

tattered glove fallen from it. At last, the iron nerve of The Shadow seemed broken. He sagged weakly.

A muffled laugh sounded within the Tao's mask. The lips of Ming Dwan were scornful.

They did not know how swiftly The Shadow's thoughts were running. Whatever the Dragon Cell might be,

captivity there would mean lost time. The one chance for the break was here. That was why The Shadow had

HIS fingers had not sought a gun. Instead, they had found a tiny pocket no more than an opened seam

within his cloak. From that crevice, The Shadow had gained a pinch of powdery substance between his thumb

The powder needed moisture. The Shadow ran his doubled hand to his forehead. His forefinger dipped into

the blood that still oozed slowly from the gash. The forefinger joined the others. The whole move of The

Shadow's hand looked as he intended it. He had apparently reached to press a painful wound.

Captors swung The Shadow to his feet. They were dragging him away, while the Tao and Ming Dwan

watched as scorners. Then, from a pitiful, sagging slight, The Shadow became a power. His whole body

His right forearm sliced upward; cracked the chin of a big false head and sent it flying, to reveal a wizened,

baldish Chinaman instead. Twisting from the grip of those on the left, he drove his left hand in a hard punch

The Shadow's fist smashed the papermache devil's head and found a human jaw beneath it. The head rolled

free when its owner fell. Another yellow face looked dusky in the greenish light. Before a single hand could

rise to stop him, The Shadow was springing for an inner corner of the room, toward the huge metal joss that

Members of the Jeho Fan were whipping off their gauntlets; false heads went plopping to the floor. No longer

did these murderous Chinese worry about hiding their identities. They had guns; they wanted to use them,

Using his left hand only, The Shadow was clambering up the statue. He was clinging to its shoulder as he

turned. He saw the eager, vicious faces just beneath him. Revolvers were snapping those first empty

Beyond, on the platform, stood the Tao. Arms folded, he still wore his devilmask. Beside him was Ming

Dwan. Both saw the amazing climax that came when The Shadow, leaning forward, thrust his right hand

The Shadow snapped his fingers. A flash of light, a puff of smoke; with them came a startling explosion, that

The stroke came with the blinding speed of lightning. The Chinese dropped away, their arms before their

The Tao pulled a revolver, to aid his dumbstruck subordinates. He had no time to throw off his mask, or jerk

away a gauntlet. Those adornments handicapped him. He was too late to halt The Shadow's next move.

With a powerful kick, The Shadow was toppling the big joss outward from the wall. It was slowly

overbalancing, at an angle toward the false chest that occupied the end wall. The Shadow did not wait for the

massive image to crash. His eyes were toward the tube; they saw the glitter of the circling death blade.

The Shadow's arms shot forward, downward. The dive that he took brought a gasp of amazement even from

Eight feet through the air, from the figure of the tumbling joss; at a perfect angle, The Shadow's whole form

disappeared, squarely within the slippery tube that offered a sure route to doom.

The Shadow was giving the blade of death a test that had never occurred to the members of the Jeho Fan.

THE instant that his elbows grazed the inside of the tube, The Shadow doubled them. His chin tilted upward,

his hands beneath it, as he whizzed toward the silvery blade. The Shadow had staked life and escape upon

The blade was timed to slice bodies that were released from the top of the tube. By his long, hard dive, The

Shadow had gained double the speed for which the blade was timed. But he could not keep his hands ahead

of him. If they struck the blade before it passed, his fast slide would be slowed.

The Shadow's face seemed sure to hit the surface. The Shadow's own reflection was shooting up to meet him.

Then it was wiped away, as the back of the blade went by. The Shadow doubled his legs as he whirled across

That last move was vital. Even with his speed, The Shadow could not have passed the danger point

completely, had he been fully stretched. Just as his knees were across the crack, the edge of the blade sliced

All that the knife garnered was the fringe of The Shadow's cloak, which followed his doubled legs. The blade

was cheated of that small trophy, for The Shadow's zooming slide whipped the cloak hem from the

Then the closing metal surface obliterated the last of the greenish light. The Shadow was plunging headlong

UP in the meeting room, the staccato barks of a revolver had accompanied The Shadow's slide. They were the

shots fired by the Tao. His bullets flattened against the front of the false chest. As he fired the second shot,

The great joss had reached the limit of its balance. Its twoton weight crashed down upon the members of the

Jeho Fan. Their arms away from their eyes, they were starting to look for The Shadow, when they saw the

juggernaut descend. Their incoherent screams told that they thought the joss had come to life.

Even that mighty statue seemed leagued with Ying Ko! The startled men beneath it had thought that the joss

As a dozen frantic Chinese scrambled in every direction, the statue landed in their midst. It literally mashed a

swath across the inner circle of the Jeho Fan. Three of the dozen were killed outright; two more were half

The Tao had no regard for cripples. Springing from the platform, he silenced the two writhing men with

bullets through their heads. Though the deed was actually merciful, that was not the Tao's thought. He wanted

Though he leaped to the tube and stared downward, the Tao knew before he looked that The Shadow's speed

had whizzed him past the blade. The Tao saw the cleaver's bulk slide past, its surface clear, without a streak

Huddled, the gowned members of the Jeho Fan were against the side walls of the meeting room, fearful that

The Tao rallied them, when he yanked open a brass door and pointed to a downward flight of steps. Ming

BELOW, The Shadow was breaking his speed as he reached the bottom of the lower tube. His hands struck a

bamboo matting that covered a stone floor. With the skill of a tumbler, The Shadow somersaulted across the

A door opened in the darkness. A hand found a light. In the glow that came, The Shadow saw a big,

dulleyed Mongol, who had come expecting to find a truncated body on the floor. The guard recognized the

The Shadow launched forward, upward, from hands and knees; his head hit the guard's chest like a

batteringram. As he bowled the Mongol to the floor, The Shadow snagged the knife with a sideward grab.

Springing through the doorway, The Shadow reached a dank, unlighted passage. He bolted the door behind

As The Shadow started to grope along the pitchblack passage, a sudden glare came from the far end. The

Tao had arrived. He was directing a spotlight from a room that opened into the dismal corridor.

The leader of the Jeho Fan was beyond the light. His devilmask was off his shoulders; he was holding it

beneath his left arm. His right hand, no longer encumbered by a gauntlet, drew a revolver to take steady aim

All that was invisible from The Shadow's position, for the Tao stood in absolute darkness behind the

With a sudden turn, The Shadow drove straight along the passage, in the direction of the light. The glow

showed a gigantic shadow on the wall behind him; as cloaked arms spread, that shade had the appearance of a

Five long, swift strides, as the Tao fired. Tricked by the grotesque illusion on the wall, the Tao aimed too

With the report, The Shadow's lunge ended. From his flinging hand scaled the captured knife, hurled for a

spot above the brilliant light, where his keen eyes had marked the faint stab of the Tao's gun.

End over end, its whirl a dazzle in the spotlight, that knife was winging for the Tao Fan. Its spin rendered its

flight deceptive and dangerous. If it struck point first, it would pinion the Tao. If the handle hit him, the result

would be the same. The knife would take another turnover, to bury itself in its human target.

The Shadow had practiced that endoverend hurl often. It was a sure system with a borrowed knife.

LUCK saved the Tao. The spotlight's rim was oversize; something that The Shadow had not been able to

observe. The spinning knife glanced the metal above the glare. Like a stone skimming from water, it took a

The Tao made a belated dive. Flattened, he lost his chance to aim again from darkness. He managed to snarl a

fierce order in Chinese, calling upon those who followed him to finish The Shadow.

Coming into the path of light, the girl covered The Shadow with the same toylike gun that she had used at

the Yangtse Restaurant. Ming Dwan had heard the knife's clatter. She knew that The Shadow was

weaponless. Instead of wasting longrange shots, she was moving close to her cloaked quarry.

Nearly forty feet intervened and The Shadow had no retreat. The rear of the passage was blind. The room

Ming Dwan's smirk challenged The Shadow to come closer, seeking a chance to grapple. But the steadiness

of her shapely tapered forefinger told that she could pump the revolver trigger without hesitation.

The Shadow crept forward. He was crouched, his course a weaving one. Ming Dwan shifted, keeping the

revolver muzzle constantly upon The Shadow. She could see the burn of The Shadow's eyes. He could not

Nevertheless, The Shadow could tell from the girl's actions that Ming Dwan was not deceived by any move

A duel appeared impending; The Shadow, barehanded, against a girl sharpshooter who possessed uncommon

speed and skill. While it impended, The Shadow had one benefit. His crouch, his weaving tactics, kept Ming

Behind the spotlight, others of the Jeho Fan had joined the Tao. Revolvers ready, they were watching that

huge blackness that spread from the end walls, marking The Shadow's closer approach to Ming Dwan.

They were confident that the girl would fire in time to halt The Shadow. If she failed, it would be their turn to

deliver doom. No matter how speedily The Shadow grappled, he could never wrest away the girl's gun before

If he expected that he could use Ming Dwan as a shield, The Shadow was far wrong. Among the Jeho Fan,

the life of one meant nothing, where the benefit of all was concerned. Those who made mistakes were apt to

Ming Dwan understood that rule. If clutched by any foeman, she would be the first to shriek for slaughter;

Only five paces separated them. The Shadow could see the tightness of the girl's hand. It was a warning as

significant as the clatter of a rattlesnake. The Shadow could not venture a half foot closer. If he retreated,

THE SHADOW stood motionless. How long Ming Dwan might allow that was a question, for she had the

The trap was hopeless as it stood. Yet The Shadow sensed that there might be some unexpected way by

To left and right of Ming Dwan lay blackened walls, for she was close to the spotlight, and its widening beam

had not reached the full extent at the spot where she stood. Just past the fringe of light to the left, The Shadow

detected the background of the wall; but his glance to the right showed deeper darkness.

Only The Shadow's keen eyes could have told that the deep gloom marked the outlet of a side passage.

The Shadow made a quick twist to the left, bringing himself into the view of those who stood behind Ming

The Tao saw the move; his snarled voice gave warning to Ming Dwan. The Tao thought that The Shadow

was reaching for another pinch of that powdered compound that boomed like dynamite when he snapped his

Ming Dwan saw. She acted as The Shadow expected. The girl made a quick step backward, raised her left

sleeve to her eyes and jabbed her gun in The Shadow's direction. One second later, she was tugging the

With Ming Dwan's fire came a shuddering, outlandish laugh, that quivered from every wall. The Shadow had

wheeled to the center of the corridor. He took a long lope, at an angle to the right, past Ming Dwan. Blinking

She threw her back against the wall on her right, as she saw The Shadow blend with the void across the

corridor. The guns of the Jeho Fan were blasting, too late to halt The Shadow's surprise dive into the

rightangle passage. Only Ming Dwan was in position to deliver direct fire after The Shadow. The girl

Surging forward, the others of the Jeho Fan had reached Ming Dwan, when they heard The Shadow's laugh

resound from darkness. The redoubtable Ying Ko had turned a corner in his new passage, away from Ming

The Tao clicked off the spotlight. Electric torches gleamed instead, from the fists of the Chinese who formed

the vengeful council of the Jeho Fan. Armed pursuers sprang into the side passage.

Ming Dwan, hastily reloading her revolver in the darkness, was joined by the Tao. They, too, took up pursuit.

THE chase led through a maze of passages, which were puzzling even to the members of the Jeho Fan. Only

the Tao's constant shouts directed them. At intervals, pursuers sighted The Shadow and fired useless shots.

At one turn, The Shadow came face to face with a foeman. The fellow shouted as he aimed; The Shadow was

upon him before he could fire. A few seconds later, the Chinaman lay slugged by his own gun.

The Shadow gained a flashlight with the weapon. Pausing only to fire at pursuers who poked their faces from

He came to a door where a huge guard stood on duty. This underground watcher had a revolver; he aimed it

for The Shadow's light. The Shadow beat him to the shot. Above the guard's slumped body, he unbolted the

door and took a stairway to a higher level, just as pursuers began to fire from the rear.

New passages brought The Shadow to a big brass door with ornamental facing. The Shadow could find no

catch to open it. He rapped a summons on the door with his gun handle, thinking that the signal would be

The floor moved beneath The Shadow's feet. Only his quick clutch of the door saved him, as a trap dropped.

The revolver went through the hole; The Shadow needed both hands to claw the facing of the door.

As his toes dug in, he heard the gun splash, far below. There was the sound of seething water.

That chasm was an underground inlet from the bay. Victims who reached its depths would remain forgotten,

their bodies washed by the subterranean current that sighed like an imprisoned monster, seeking its way back

Like a beetle clinging to the brassy door surface, The Shadow was helpless. Soon, his grip would slip and he

would drop. Unless the members of the Jeho Fan arrived before then, to shoot him from his slippery perch.

The guard beyond the door did not pull the lever to bring the trapdoor up in place.

That was explained when the brass door slid part way open, carrying The Shadow with it. A yellow face

poked through the opening, to stare downward with a demoniac leer. The trappuller hoped to catch a

Instead, the fellow received the clamp of a hand upon his neck. The Shadow's grab was timely. It saved him

from the drop, for his hold on the door had almost yielded. Before the guard could shake off the clutch, The

The Chinaman was brawny. Instinctively, he was trying to haul himself back into the passage beyond the

door, to escape a fall through the trap. The Shadow relaxed, to aid the guard's effort; but tightened when the

Wedged in the doorway, The Shadow braced. His feet pressed the frame, his shoulders drove the door full

open. With a twist, he was away from the guard's grasp. But the big man pounced upon him. They grappled

The Chinaman's fingers plucked The Shadow's cloak. Wrenching away, The Shadow whipped the garment

over the fellow's head, with smothering folds. As the Chinaman clawed the cloak downward, quick fingers

reached his throat. Their numbing pressure paralyzed the guard's whole body, even to the yellowed fingers

THERE was a shrill call from the passage that The Shadow had left. Turning, The Shadow saw Ming Dwan

beckoning to others of the Jeho ran. As the girl turned away, The Shadow took a long, quick chance.

He twisted the big guard toward the open door; shoved the fellow to his knees. Releasing the guard's throat,

The Shadow whipped off his slouch hat and clamped it on his enemy's swaying head.

The Chinaman's eyes lost their staring bulge. Coughing as he gripped his tortured neck, he stared at The

Shadow, in the tuxedoed guise of Cranston, making a quick dash up the stairs. Forgetful of the cloak and hat,

A barrage boomed from the corridor that fronted the open door. Three of the Jeho Fan had joined Ming

Dwan. They were firing at the back of a cloaked figure that they took for The Shadow.

The blackcloaked form swayed backward; took a twisting sidepitch down into the open hole below the

The Tao arrived to see the plunge. Ming Dwan and the others heard his hollow chuckle. They turned to see

their leader, his mask again upon his head, his arms folded, like a Chinese image of fate.

Ming Dwan babbled that she had seen a struggle; that the guard must have pitched through the trap, for The

Shadow was alone when the others had joined her. Ming Dwan was apologetic over the loss of the guard.

"What is one servant?" voiced the Tao. "It is good that Ying Ko should have company. His spirit might be

The Tao, like his chosen followers, was satisfied that they had seen the last of The Shadow.

THE next afternoon, a telegram was delivered to Richard Vayne. Myra Reldon received it and took it into the

inner office. At his desk, Vayne opened the message. The grayhaired man smiled as he read the telegram.

"From Cranston," he said to Myra. "He is on his way back East. He flew to Denver this morning, from Los

"I had hoped to hear from Cranston," he remarked. "I was worried about him, and thought that it would be

unwise for me to be with him last night. I think you understand, Myra. The Chinese are "

"I know," interposed Myra. "Some of them were watching my apartment house, last night. So I stayed at

Vayne strummed the desk. His worriment remained; but his concern was for Myra, now that Cranston was

"I have many friends," Vayne told the girl, "and servants, at my home in Oakland. I am safe, wherever I go. I

"I can depend upon the police," assured Myra. "Don't worry, Mr. Vayne. I'll look out for myself."

Vayne was doubtful; but Myra's determination made argument useless. Vayne gave her the telegram to file.

As she walked from the inner office, her back was turned toward Vayne. The girl could safely smile in the

She said nothing to Vayne about her date with Cranston. As for the telegram, Myra kept silent on that matter,

also. She knew that the Tao had been responsible for the telegram. When Cranston's disappearance became a

nationwide mystery, police would believe that the millionaire had vanished elsewhere than in San Francisco.

EVENING brought brilliance to the bizarre streets of Chinatown. Thousands of peaceful Chinese were

abroad; but among them were camouflaged members of the Jeho Fan. Ming Dwan was one.

There were streaks of darkness in the Chinese quarter: alleyways between the lighted streets. Into one of

those alleys stepped a tall American, whose face, though hawkish, bore little resemblance to Cranston's. The

American carried a package that looked like a purchase from one of the Chinese bazaars.

In a nearby building was an office that contained a solitary Chinaman. He was garbed in American clothes.

Blackness gathered beyond the lamp. There was a momentary swish. Tam looked up; he saw The Shadow,

"I expected you, Ying Ko," announced Tam, "despite the rumor that the Jeho Fan had slain you."

"Let them believe me dead," returned The Shadow, his whisper sinister. "I have learned much regarding the

Jeho Fan. One fact will astonish you. The Tao does not have the letter from Cho Tsing."

Tam was puzzled. He was positive that the missing message must have reached the Tao Fan. He would not

"Since the letter is elsewhere," came the whisper, "perhaps you can suggest the name of the person who holds

"All matters in Chinatown," he stated, "are known to the Jeho Fan. The Teeth of the Dragon bite everywhere.

Even here, Ying Ko, although those fangs are wary, because I am well protected. No one in Chinatown could

Tam's opinion was emphatic. The Shadow considered its possibilities. The Tao had believed that The Shadow

held the message, and probably still believed it. That, however, did not alter the situation.

The spies of the Jeho Fan were everywhere, as Tam said. In their methodical way, they had probably pried

into the affairs of many Chinese, to make sure, by elimination, that only The Shadow could have gained the

"Lubber Kreef knew no Chinamen," The Shadow told Tam. "The fact that he talked to persons at random is

The statement was sufficient. The Shadow stepped toward the door. Doctor Tam knew that he was about to

fare forth to conduct investigations elsewhere. Even though he was sure that Cho Tsing was in San Francisco,

"New facts will be useful," he told Tam. "Anything concerning Li Sheng, the merchant whose name you

The Shadow merged with darkness. Doctor Tam heard the soft close of the office door.

LATER, a cab rolled toward the outskirts of Chinatown, passing the almostforgotten street where the

residence of Li Sheng was located. That cab seemed empty; but from its interior, keen eyes saw the arched

There were Chinese along the street who could be termed lurkers, although all seemed to have business there.

Perhaps they were members of the Jeho Fan, watching the way to Li Sheng's. For the present, The Shadow

The cab was out of Chinatown. It swung past an old, abandoned storehouse that could be classed as a

dividing line; it stretched a short block inward, toward Li Sheng's house. It belonged to Chinatown, that

The Shadow recognized it as a storage building that had once held goods for the Chinese bazaars. Their

When it was torn down, another chunk would be lopped from the Chinese quarter, bringing the border to the

The cab neared the water front. An ungloved hand paid the driver. A shrouded figure alighted; lost its shape

beneath the overhanging gloom of steamship piers. The Shadow did not emerge from that darkness.

Instead, came a limber, stoopish ruffian, his scarred face marked by its highbridged, ugly nose. He was

wearing khaki pants; a graystriped jersey. An old checkered cap was tipped over one of his eyes. He looked

like a roustabout who had failed to get a seaman's berth aboard a tramp steamer.

This product of the water front soon showed up in one of the toughest dives in the dock district. There, he

was regarded as just another wharf rat, until he produced a wad of grimy bank notes so thick that he couldn't

When he gruffly ordered drinks for every one in the place, the stranger promptly gained the attention of the

His name was Moggler, he told them, and he was in from Shanghai. That was where he had gathered his wad;

how he had gained the money was another matter. The most important detail was that Moggler intended to

"Whatta I hear when I get ashore?" demanded Moggler, his eyes darting from face to face. "I'll tell you. Them

heathens is come down from Chinatown to chop a matey of yours. And whatta you done about it?

With that reference to the murder of Lubber Kreef, Moggler brandished his money close to the faces that

"That ain't the way it would go in Shanghai," he added contemptuously. "We'd go where the Chinese is an'

there's millions of 'em to let 'em know how we was feelin'; an' there'd be profit in it. Like this!"

HIS final reference concerned the money. Thrusting the roll in his pocket, Moggler nodded wisely as he

surveyed the group. They caught the idea quickly enough. He wanted to head a looting expedition through

There were grumbles; objections. Frisco wasn't Shanghai. The Chinese kept their wealth in vaults. Besides,

San Francisco had a police force; something, perhaps, that Moggler didn't know. Avenging Lubber's death

Bignosed Moggler had an answer for that objection. He pounded his pocket with his tight fist.

"There's plenty there," he told them. "Enough for two hundred dollars' bounty to each man as goes along, pay

in advance! Only there's gotta be enough of us. Get me thirty recruits by midnight."

Moggler considered the matter settled. Some of the shifty listeners decided to go through with it. Their job

was to spread the news along the water front. They started out on that task, leaving Moggler in the grogshop

While he waited, The Shadow was confident that his ruse would bring results. He knew that Lubber must

have talked to some one after leaving Chinatown, on the night of his death. The contact must have occurred

somewhere along the water front. The person who heard Lubber's story was the one who had later found the

That same person would be interested in anything that concerned Lubber and Chinatown.

It wasn't an hour before Shiv Faxon arrived near the dive where recruits were signing up to join the

expedition. Entering a side door, Shiv reached a back room and found the proprietor there. Shiv rapped a

The proprietor opened a convenient door; Shiv peered through and took a survey. He noted that only a few

Shiv departed. He met with a dozen husky dockwallopers. His instructions were brisk:

SHIV followed along to witness the result. He was in the back room when his crew of huskies entered and

singled out Moggler. When a couple of dockwallopers announced that they had business, Moggler's recruits

Two seconds later, the action started, but not the sort that the peering Shiv expected.

A husky grabbed Moggler's shoulder. The limber roustabout twisted away; snatched up a table with one hand.

As fists hooked toward him, he handled that table like a baseball bat. Moggler bludgeoned one walloper to

Huskies grabbed up tables of their own. Some yanked blackjacks; others pulled guns. Their weapons didn't

help. Moggler was among them, flaying the table with his right hand; warding blows with his left arm. From

The wallopers who had tables couldn't swing them with Moggler's speed. Those who gripped blackjacks

The wharf rats rallied to Moggler's support. The proprietor doused the lights, to save the dockwallopers

from complete rout. The fracas continued, until the arrival of police interrupted it.

Patrol wagons clanged along the water front. The law took over. From the side door, Shiv saw battered

Moggler wasn't among them. When the police had gone, Shiv stared amazed, when the limber roustabout

came strolling around the corner. The fellow looked along the street, as if seeking a new headquarters.

Shiv came from his doorway, gripping a knife handle. His first thought was to get close to Moggler and sink

a dirk in the victor's back. Shiv dropped that idea as he sneaked forward. A better idea occurred to him.

It was lucky that he changed his plan. Before he was within range of Moggler, the tall fighter bounced about.

"Save it, bozo," gruffed the racketeer. "I'm all for you! They say you're the guy that wants to get even with

"I'll show you how," promised Shiv. "A better way than the one you figured. I got a partner in the

proposition; we can use you. Only one thing no rough stuff until the right time. Savvy?"

"It suits me," growled Moggler. "I'd just as soon save my bank roll, after how yellow them guys was. The

"Wharf rats," snorted Shiv. "Stick with me and I'll steer you into a real outfit. You're death on the chinks; all

right, we'll give you a chance to knock off plenty. And double that roll of yours, as part of the bargain."

The deal was made. The grimy lights of a steep street showed Shiv and Moggler heading away from the

TWO quiet days had passed; a period so lulling that it promised a smash of future events. Richard Vayne had

heard no more from Lamont Cranston, and had practically forgotten the millionaire who had met him only

That fact pleased Myra Reldon; and the girl had another cause for elation. Whatever the plans of the Tao Fan,

they were due to crystallize very shortly. The Tao had passed word through Chinatown that all members of

That enabled Myra to discard her disguise of Ming Dwan. She was confident that when she again assumed

her Chinese character, she would be assigned to the most important task that Ming Dwan had ever undertaken

From the opposite camp, Doctor Tam had reported very little, when The Shadow made cloaked visits to

Tam's office. Tam had gained some information regarding Li Sheng, the merchant, with a good description of

the wealthy Chinaman's home. He expected more; also a confidential report from China.

Meanwhile, The Shadow had progressed as Moggler; only to encounter a lull in the affairs of Brig Lenbold

Brig was pleased with Shiv's report of Moggler's prowess. The racketeers had been looking for fighters of

that sort. They needed shock troops for some enterprise involving Chinatown, and Brig supported Shiv's

statement that Moggler would have plenty of opportunity to take a whack at some Chinese.

In proof, they took their new henchman to their secret headquarters. The trip proved their point; and it told

The place was the abandoned Chinese warehouse, a block away from the mansion of Li Sheng.

The Shadow had noticed no activity at the warehouse the time that he had passed it. That was explained by

the fact that everything was taking place inside the walls. Patrolling toughs kept under cover in the

warehouse. Moggler was placed on patrol duty, with orders not to poke his big nose outside.

He had his suitcase there, with him; like other rowdies, he was quartered in a room on the ground floor.

There was a stairway that went below. Only Brig and Shiv went beyond it, although they had men working in

the cellar, who were never seen by the groundfloor guards. A lookout was posted at the bottom of the cellar

ON this particular night, Brig rapped for entry at a side door of the warehouse. The guard who admitted him

was Moggler. Sharp eyes watched Brig's face, as long fingers turned a wick to increase the glow of a lantern.

"There won't be long to wait," informed Brig. "Maybe tonight will be the time, Moggler. I'm going

Brig went below. As his footsteps faded, Moggler's stooped form left the range of light. There was a slight

The Shadow had resumed his cloak and hat. His gloved fingers adjusted the lantern to only a tiny glow.

Moving silently through the darkness, The Shadow reached the stairway to the cellar. This wasn't the first

time that he had explored that far. He had even reached the bottom of the steps, unknown to the lower guard.

That was as far as he had penetrated. Wisely, The Shadow had waited until positive that crooks intended

Nearing the bottom of the steps, The Shadow saw a hanging lantern that threw a small circle of glow. There

was a sweatered figure seated beyond; The Shadow recognized a rough face. The lower guard was a beefy

"It's Shiv." The Shadow voiced a sharp imitation of the racketeer's tone. "Say, Butch, did Brig go through?"

"No." The faked tone was anxious. "Nobody's up there. You'd better go up, Butch, and find out what's

Butch started upward. He was on the second step when massed darkness launched upon him. Hurled from

balance, the beefy guard was easy prey for The Shadow. Within a few minutes, Butch lay bound and gagged,

The Shadow lowered the lantern's wick. The circle of light was lessened. Butch's trussed form was out of

MOVING farther into the cellar, The Shadow saw the glow of lights from a far corner. As he approached, he

The glow came from the floor. It fitted with what The Shadow had expected to find. As he drew closer, The

This time, The Shadow used different tactics. He spoke, in the sharp tone that resembled Shiv's; but his voice

"Maybe not. But he was coming down to find you. Butch stopped him; chased him upstairs again. He wasn't

there when I came through. When Butch gave me the lowdown, I told him to go out and hunt up Moggler."

Brig didn't like the news. He figured that Moggler's desertion could make trouble, and said so. As Shiv, The

Shadow argued the opposite. If Moggler couldn't keep in line, it was better to be rid of him.

"Anyway," snapped The Shadow, from the darkness, "what if Moggler does start a brawl with some chinks?

"I guess it will," agreed Brig. "It's all set, Shiv. Like we thought it would be. Half past ten will be the

Brig wanted Shiv to follow him to the corner. Shiv's excuse was that he ought to make sure that Butch had

started outside. Brig heard him promise to return as soon as he had checked that detail.

Returning to the stairway, The Shadow heard steps coming down. He edged past the light; gave a boomed

Shiv took the voice for Brig's. From the steps, he wanted to know why the outside door was unguarded.

"It's that guy Moggler," Shiv heard Brig's tone inform. "He quit. I chased Butch out to look for him."

"What if he is? Maybe it will help us. Moggler don't know what our racket is. Everything's set, Shiv. Half

"Take a gander outside, Shiv. If everything's cool, roust out some guy to take over Moggler's lookout. Then

SHIV went up the stairs. Quickly, The Shadow sprang to the corner and hoisted Butch over his shoulders. He

carried the husky like a dummy figure. The Shadow was on the steps before Shiv's footfalls had faded above.

At the top, The Shadow waited, resting Butch's trussed weight against a stack of boxes. He heard Shiv return

to appoint another lookout. With long strides, The Shadow carried Butch to the outer portal. He shoved the

door open; he was in the alleyway, with the door swinging shut behind him, when distant paces told that Shiv

It wasn't long before Shiv joined Brig in the cellar. Each thought he had talked to the other previously; their

Shiv simply said that he had put another guard on duty, to replace Moggler. That suited Brig. After that, their

Meanwhile, a shrouded form was blending through the darkness of Chinatown, burdened by a prisoner's

weight. It wasn't far to Tam's; and The Shadow knew a route that offered alleys and passages, all the way. His

arrival at Tam's lacked its usual silence, but it produced a startled reaction from the businesslike Chinese.

As the door opened, Tam saw a big figure loom from darkness and settle sideways to the floor. It was the

bound form of Butch. The prisoner rolled helplessly into the light. The Shadow stepped in view. He propped

Butch didn't like his surroundings. He knew that Brig and Shiv had been plotting against certain Chinese; and

he figured that Doctor Tam was one of them. Being brought here by The Shadow was another ominous

feature of Butch's capture. Butch blinked, worried, when he heard The Shadow talk to Tam in Chinese.

After that, The Shadow let Tam be the spokesman. In precisely worded English, Tam promised Butch

freedom, at a later hour, if the prisoner would comply with certain terms. They were simple enough: a

telephone call to a number that connected with a special extension to the warehouse.

Butch made the call under The Shadow's surveillance. He worded it exactly as Tam dictated, even though he

didn't understand what it was all about. Butch had found Moggler, brawling with some Chinese outside the

old Mukden Theater, in the portion of Chinatown most remote from the warehouse. Butch had pitched into

Cops had ended it. Both Moggler and Butch were pinched. Butch knew a guy who could spring them,

without dragging Brig or Shiv into it. But the racketeers would be short two men until tomorrow.

Butch sold his story well. He heard Shiv say "O.K." across the wire, adding that it would be all right with

When Butch hung up, Doctor Tam nodded solemnly, to indicate that the prisoner had fulfilled his part. Tam

pressed a buzzer. Some Chinese servants entered and carried away the prisoner to a place where he could

That done, Tam seated himself at the desk and began to spread report sheets for The Shadow. Doctor Tam

had gathered facts that he knew would be useful to The Shadow; but he did not regard them as highly

In that, Tam was mistaken. The Shadow had already garnered details of his own, that he was to fit with those

provided by Doctor Tam. Tonight, The Shadow stood on the threshold of new adventure a bold, daring

The Shadow was planning a thrust to rescue General Cho Tsing; if that stroke succeeded, disaster would

UPON the desk, Tam spread diagrams that formed a ground floor plan of Li Sheng's mansion. They showed a

large room in the center, with many small apartments surrounding it. There were passages, too, all shown in

It had been easy, Tam explained, to gain a simple description of the hidden house. Various persons

Americans, as well as Chinese had been guests at the merchant's home. All knew about the square,

It was furnished in lavish style, that room, with a fountain playing into a shallow pool. In that rounded basin,

Li Sheng kept brands of Oriental fish that could not be duplicated in any American aquarium.

Li Sheng lived on the ground floor; only servants occupied the upper stories. Tam's finger pointed to a suite

of rooms at the back of the ground floor. They were reached by steps leading up from the central reception

"The guest quarters," explained Tam. "It is there that Cho Tsing will be found if the general is living there,

The Shadow studied the diagrams. He spoke his appreciation of Tam's careful work. It had been difficult for

"Li Sheng is wary," declared Tam. "He pretends that all guests are welcome; but they are not. There are

certain ways by which they may be conducted to his reception room; and along those passages, strange

"Never anything that Li Sheng could foresee; not, at least, so one could prove. He regrets accidents, does Li

Sheng. Nevertheless, they occur. He has many servants, also, who obey even the slight uplift of his finger.

Doctor Tam referred again to those rights, when he analyzed the probable position of Cho Tsing.

"If Cho Tsing has entered the house of Li Sheng," announced Tam, gravely, "he was welcomed there as a

guest. As such, he will have remained. For it is as dangerous to leave the hospitality of Li Sheng as it is to

"Should persons come to pay the ransom of Cho Tsing, they would find other guests awaiting them

members of the Jeho Fan. They would know, of course, that Li Sheng had received return for his services; but

"Therefore, the position of Li Sheng is secure. He has always kept it such; and always shall. Li Sheng is a law

From Tam's declaration, Li Sheng could be regarded as neither friend nor foe, unless something could be

proven against him. That, in Tam's opinion would be a titanic task, even for The Shadow.

"Doubtful news," replied Tam, seriously. "Two members of the Nanking government are coming to America

by clipper plane, and will arrive tomorrow. Report says that they are coming to raise funds for the ransom of

The Shadow's pronouncement came as an undisputed verdict. Doctor Tam saw the logic. Representatives of

the Chinese government would not have to leave China to negotiate a loan. They could do so if they chose;

and they were using that fact as a smoke screen. But behind the scenes lay the answer that The Shadow

Chinese emissaries would visit the neutral domain of Li Sheng. They would leave there, taking Cho Tsing

with them. He would return, disguised, to China; later, a fictionized story of his release would be made

The world would never know that Cho Tsing had been brought to America. The coffers of the Jeho Fan

would be ten million dollars richer, less whatever amount Li Sheng might demand for intermediary services.

The greatest ransom in history would be completed by tomorrow night. With new wealth in its possession,

the Jeho Fan could expand its size, to become the most formidable of evil organizations. The power of the

Yet, to win the victory, The Shadow would have to accomplish the incredible. He must enter the house of Li

Sheng and release the captive Cho Tsing. He would be treading on preserves where a single false step would

Li Sheng, foxy, ever evasive, could twist the facts to prove himself right. The Shadow, if he fell into the toils,

Dangerous though the task was, The Shadow intended to undertake it this very night; for this would be the

Tam knew The Shadow's determination. Despite the ruin that it might bring him, the sincere Chinaman

"I can assemble trusted men," declared Tam. "They will battle those of the Jeho Fan who wait outside Li

"Such conflict would be useless," objected The Shadow. "By the time the way would clear, Li Sheng would

"They will be needed," interposed The Shadow. "But for a different purpose. One block from the house of Li

Tam was perplexed. He had not yet heard of The Shadow's complete discoveries concerning the racketeers

The Shadow's arrival with Butch as burden had partially explained that situation; but Tam had not guessed

The Shadow gave the details. Tam listened, his face a curious study. Slowly, he grasped the full significance

of The Shadow's plan. The Shadow told the part that he intended to accomplish; then explained the exact

extent of Tam's required cooperation. Tam smiled gravely when The Shadow had finished.

"Many deeds must be accomplished," declared Tam. "Some seem impossible; others offer no difficulty. You,

Ying Ko, have reserved the impossible tasks for yourself; the possible are to be mine.

"That, Ying Ko, may mean success. When Ying Ko undertakes the impossible, it becomes the possible. You

are wise as well as bold. You may depend upon my men to perform the part that you require of them. It will

IT was nearly nine o'clock when a solitary figure arrived on the street that fronted the archway to Li Sheng's

forgotten mansion. A gliding shape of blackness, that form was not seen by the skulking watchers of the Jeho

Between two buildings lay the arched passage that led to Li Sheng's. It formed a tunneled route, that ended in

dull bronze gates, where visitors rang for entry. The passage was lighted; and watching eyes were

If an unwanted visitor approached those gates, the Jeho Fan was ready to intervene. Within a dozen seconds,

the passage could become a death trap. The Shadow knew that choice of that route would be a play into the

The only course was to enter the courtyard by one of the buildings that surrounded it. That was difficult, for

every doorway had a hidden watcher. For The Shadow, there remained one alternative.

Keeping to darkness, he found a stretch of blackened wall. Rough, crumbling stone felt the grip of The

Upward, a blackened figure made its precarious climb. The Shadow's fingers found useful crevices. He

Three squatty stories brought The Shadow to the ledge that fronted the roof. Flattened, to avoid the glow of

It was dark, all along the roof. Crouching as he proceeded, The Shadow reached the rear edge. He looked

down into a squareshaped courtyard, that was sunk below the street level. The buildings that surrounded it

There were stone steps that led up to the rear of the big gates. By observing those, The Shadow checked the

Facing into the courtyard, occupying a space of equal size, was the house of Li Sheng. It was a stone house,

three stories high, that looked like a relic of old San Francisco. Some previous owner had preserved that

mansion, while other buildings were erected around it. That must have been years ago; for the girdling

How long Li Sheng had owned the forgotten mansion, was a question; but the crafty merchant had made a

A complete silence gripped the courtyard. Even from the parapet, that hush was apparent. The roar of San

Francisco's traffic, the jumbled sounds of Chinatown were totally obliterated from this isolated spot.

The roof of the mansion was solid. The windows of the upper floors were barred. Those on the ground floor

were equipped with tightclosed metal shutters. The Shadow decided, however, that entry would be possible

if he once reached the mansion's roof. He could swing from it, and work on a barred thirdstory window.

TO gain the roof, The Shadow had to move along the parapet and turn a corner. He had just begun that course

when creeping footsteps halted him. The Jeho Fan had guards up here. One was making his rounds.

The guard turned his flashlight in The Shadow's direction. He was holding the torch low; its beam did not

reach the arm that stretched across The Shadow's face, holding the upturned cloak collar. Seeing nothing but

The dropped flashlight took an unlucky bounce almost to The Shadow's feet. As he regained it, the Chinaman

happened to tilt it upward. The chance angle of the light flickered a hawkish silhouette along the parapet.

The cry was no more than a gargle, for gloved hands had the Celestial's throat, while a rasped whisper called

for silence. The goggleeyed guard regretted his shout; but he was too late to recall it. Other flashlights

The Shadow flung his prisoner against the chimney. As the Chinaman flattened, The Shadow went across the

back parapet. Others saw his head and shoulders drop from sight. Yellow faces peered from the roof edge,

The darkness of that rear wall was a perfect cover for the cloaked adventurer. The Shadow was descending

recklessly, digging for any hold that offered. The rear wall was badly crumbled. That helped.

Flashlights did not spot The Shadow until one Chinaman leaned far over the edge above. As he saw a cloaked

bulk at the secondfloor level, the fellow yelled and jerked a knife from his belt.

The Shadow's right hand clawed the stony wall. His left poked an automatic upward; pulled the trigger just as

The bullet clipped the man on the roof. Overbalanced, he was toppling as his knife whizzed past The Shadow.

That member of the Jeho Fan was doomed. He came hurtling from the roof, wailing as he sped past The

Other fighters were leaning over the edge. The Shadow sprayed bullets along the line. One foeman sagged,

hanging crazily from the parapet. Two more went rolling back to the roof. Others dived away. They were

The Shadow made a quick shift downward. From directly above the arch, he dropped to the stone steps.

Turning, he sprang down into the deep courtyard. He saw the cover that he wanted. It was the deep recess of

SPINNING as he dashed, The Shadow blasted bullets to the roof to drive back any aiming sharpshooters. He

reached the doorway; its overhanging eaves gave shelter. The guards on the roof no longer mattered. Trouble

The alarm had spread from the roof. Vassals of the Jeho Fan were in the arched passage, clanging at the metal

Those barriers were locked; but massed strength overcame them. His guns reloaded, The Shadow waited. He

was ready to snipe that horde when it poured through. If he clipped them fast, they would tumble down the

steps. Thinning the ranks would break the attack, and enable him to charge through.

The Shadow was not worried over the outcome of such battle. His one regret was his loss of an opportunity to

A gate swung clear. Yellow faces peered above the steps. His back braced against Li Sheng's big front door,

The Shadow aimed both automatics, ready to deliver a double dose of lead. His fingers were beginning their

smooth squeeze. Only the totally unexpected could have halted The Shadow's opening volley of leaden slugs.

The unexpected came. With a sudden jerk, Li Sheng's big door swung inward, so suddenly that The Shadow

went with it. He was too late to hook the door frame with a gun hand. The bash of his automatic against the

The door slammed shut as The Shadow sprawled. The closing of the big barrier cut off the raucous shouts of

those Chinese who were pouring into the path of The Shadow's fire. The turn of events had saved a squad of

As for The Shadow, only the future could tell what his case would be. In a twinkling, he had gained the chief

thing that he wanted: entrance into the house of Li Sheng. But the surprising manner of his entry foreboded

Doom awaited those who were unwary within the walls where Li Sheng ruled and The Shadow's forced

arrival there had been anything but clever. In the duel of wits that was to come, Li Sheng had gained the first

DESPITE his twisting tumble, The Shadow came up with an aiming gun. He was crouched on one knee, his

left hand resting its automatic on the floor, while his right fist gripped a leveled weapon. Had there been

sudden opposition. The Shadow could have met it. But there was no cause for battle.

A robed Chinaman was calmly bolting the big door. He turned about, to show a pair of outspread hands. His

"You are welcome, Ying Ko," he said mildly, in English. "All who reach the portals of Li Sheng are welcome

A muffled tumult was fading outside the huge front door. Some one from above had shouted at the entering

The Shadow placed his automatics in holsters deep beneath his cloak. He turned to the bland Chinaman who

was to be his guide. The Celestial stepped to the rear of the entry and stopped before a brass door.

"This will interest you, Ying Ko," he announced. "A press of this concealed knob the door rises. But

The Chinaman paused, pointing. Three seconds passed. The door dropped with a terrific clang.

"Li Sheng designed that to keep out enemies," explained the guide. He pressed the knob and waved for The

Shadow to go through, as the door rose. "But of course, Ying Ko" mildly, the Chinaman plucked The

The Shadow's interruption was a whipping twist that carried him through the doorway. He was on the

threshold at the instant when the guide so gently distracted his attention. The Shadow's quick move was

The door crashed as he whisked away, missing The Shadow's shoulders by a scant inch. That brass barrier

The Shadow waited in a short hallway. The door came smoothly upward; the bespectacled guide strolled

"Very, very sorry." apologized the owlish guide. "It was forgetful of me to speak while you were passing

THE first of Li Sheng's "accidents" had failed with The Shadow. The guide seemed unperturbed. Calmly, he

There was no trick about that barrier. The guide opened it in ordinary fashion. They stepped into a

The walls were lined with woven drapes that depicted scenes from the ancient Ming dynasty.

"Very beautiful." announced the guide, referring to the Chinese art. "The story begins here" he pointed to a

cloth picture in the corner "and follows along the wall. But we must not linger, Ying Ko" the guide

The mild tone perfectly disguised the warning that it carried. The guide had timed his final words to the

instant when he knew that The Shadow's attention was centered on the woven picture.

Even to The Shadow, that wall scene had a compelling fascination that made him linger. No eye could escape

Though The Shadow paused, the guide's words echoed in his mind. He sensed, also, that the Chinaman had

stepped away. Turning, The Shadow saw the robed man waiting at another doorway. Even then, the trap

would not have been apparent, except for the fact that the guide had gone to the top of a short flight of steps.

With quick strides, The Shadow crossed the room. He was at the steps when a dizziness seized him. The

whole room whirled; the pictures made a fantastic jumble. For the first time, The Shadow sensed a thick

aroma; the atmosphere of some overpowering drug, that was odorless until it took effect.

Swaying, The Shadow felt that the next pace he took would bring him to disaster. The floor was motionless;

With an effort, The Shadow closed his eyes and stumbled forward. He was dizzy; but the steps were solid.

In the air of the higher passage, he steadied. He opened his eyes, saw the bowing guide.

The Chinaman was quite indifferent to the fact that The Shadow had escaped the second trap. He merely

remarked that some visitors found the Ming room so delightful that they remained there.

The subtlety of Li Sheng's traps lay in the way they varied; also in the false ones that were introduced.

As they descended a flight of short steps, The Shadow twisted aside as a huge vase came tumbling from a

shelf above the stairway, to crash in many fragments. The guide was very sorry about that, also, particularly

because Li Sheng would be disturbed when he learned that he had lost a priceless piece of crockery.

In the room at the bottom of the steps, the guide motioned to a potted bush of magnificent roses, remarking

that they were scentless. When The Shadow accepted the statement without test, the Chinaman smelled the

"Let me go first," he remarked. "Do not follow until I have reached the far end. Moreover, there is a word that

The Shadow watched. The passage was gloomy; halfway along, the floor slid open when the guide had

passed. It remained in that condition until the robed man reached the far end. When he halted, the floor slid

Walking through the passage, The Shadow crossed the trap. It slid wide behind him. Simultaneously, a

paneled door clicked in the wall. A huge Mongol sprang out to bar The Shadow's path. The challenger's hand

Twisting sideways on the very edge of the floor opening, The Shadow came in past the Mongol's sweep. As

they locked, The Shadow went to one knee; hoisted upward and backward. The jujitsu trick lurched the

The guide came back along the passage. He and The Shadow peered below. The muscular Mongol was

crawling to his feet beside the wall of an eightfoot pit. He had profited by the added impetus that The

The center of the pit was a bed of upright spikes; an ordinary shove would have impaled the victim upon

"The guard is not badly hurt," observed the bland guide. "That will please Li Sheng. It was too bad" he

turned to The Shadow "that you forgot to state the password, as I did. The guard expected it."

The guide had not mentioned that the word "Penang" applied specifically to this passage. The Shadow,

though, had understood it. He had deliberately let the guide's ruse reach its climax, in order to view another of

The Shadow expected one more snare; for they were nearing Li Sheng's reception room.

"WE have reached the triple doors," declared the guide, stopping before a solid copper barrier. "We must pass

He turned a dial while The Shadow watched. As he finished, the guide tipped his little finger slightly and

pressed an ornament beside the dial. The movement was almost too trivial to notice. The guide went through

The Shadow duplicated the combination, as soon as the door had clanged shut. He did not forget the

important touch to the ornament. He heard a tiny click, telling that the added press was part of the

For the first time, the Celestial was dour. The second door had the same system as the first. When they had

passed it, The Shadow stepped ahead of the guide, to open the third door. The guide intervened.

"This leads to the reception room," he told The Shadow. "I must go first, to announce you to Li Sheng."

The Shadow's fingers were at the dial. As he drew his hand away, he applied the finger touch to the

ornament. The guide did not notice it. The Shadow stepped back to watch the result. When the guide worked

Instead of swinging ahead, the door reversed. The wall opened automatically, at right angles, and the door

carried the astonished Chinaman with it. There was a clang as the smug Celestial was locked in a tiny,

The final door was open. The Shadow saw a large, vaulted room, where a spraying fountain played beneath

the soft tints of changing lights. He heard a melodious chuckle, indicating that Li Sheng had seen the reversed

sweep of the last door. The merchant evidently supposed that The Shadow had been tricked by the last of his

The Shadow stepped across the threshold. He saw Li Sheng, seated in a teakwood reclining chair, beyond the

fountain. The merchant was smallish; his long, wizened face seemed colorless, above the rich crimson of his

Li Sheng's cackled mirth ceased when he saw The Shadow. It was surprise, more than fear, that gripped him.

Four gowned servants bobbed into view, two from each side of the room. All had revolvers, that they swung

toward The Shadow. They halted their guns halfdrawn. The Shadow's fists had produced a pair of

automatics. The big muzzles were trained at angles. Li Sheng's men were covered.

TRAP for trap, The Shadow had balked Li Sheng's moves. Here, in the heart of the merchant's stronghold, he

still held the advantage. Wisely, though, The Shadow refrained from using it. He knew that Li Sheng

Boldly, The Shadow had proven that he could master each menace that arrived. Li Sheng was wise as well as

shrewd. He had not unleashed his power to the limit; but neither had The Shadow. The old Chinaman

Li Sheng spoke to the servants. Slowly, they put their guns away. The Shadow thrust his automatics beneath

"Welcome, Ying Ko," he said. "My pitiful home is exalted by the presence of so honored a guest."

Though the merchant's words were solemn, the corners of his lips retained an upward twist, that gave The

Li Sheng had accepted The Shadow's arrival. But it was plain that he would present new obstacles to stay The

THE domed reception room was a fantasy of Oriental splendor. Located in the center of the mansion, it was

windowless. The soft, manyhued lights came from an indirect system. The side walls had square niches, set

The tinkle of the fountain gave the room a lulling tone. The fountain, itself, was in the shape of a threefoot

dragon, made entirely of silver. The coiled monster had its head tilted upward; from its open mouth sprayed

the jets of water that fell into the shimmering pool surrounding the fountain's base.

The pool contained Li Sheng's rare fish. They were curious creatures, that rested lazily in the water, as though

they liked to pose. Their colors formed everchanging blends, thanks to the variations of the light that struck

While The Shadow surveyed the room, Li Sheng extended a scrawny hand toward another teakwood chair.

The Shadow noted the invitation to be seated. Calmly, he removed his hat and cloak.

A servant came to take the garments, but The Shadow motioned him aside. He flattened the cloak over the

The Shadow was wearing the guise of Cranston. He had changed his features and donned his tuxedo, before

The tiny, glittering eyes of Li Sheng watched the hawkfaced visitor. Whatever Li Sheng's opinions, he did

It was a certainty that Li Sheng knew of The Shadow's adventures with the Jeho Fan, and therefore had

believed that The Shadow was dead. His first guess to the contrary had come when battle started in the

courtyard. Watchers from Li Sheng's windows must have seen The Shadow cross the court and reported to

By admitting The Shadow and welcoming him as a guest, Li Sheng had shown his great cunning. He had

foreseen trouble for the Jeho Fan's attacking horde. He had preferred to handle Ying Ko, himself.

There was a splash from the fountain pool. The Shadow looked in that direction. He saw fish leaping wildly,

away from the attack of finny foemen. The attacking fish were small, but hideous. Their gobbling mouths

"They are the dragon fish," remarked Li Sheng, in gloating tone. "They disturb the others, and drive them into

"There is one fish" Li Sheng craned his head toward the pool "who avoids the dragon fish, by staying

constantly away from danger. He must be hiding among the rocks, as usual, for I cannot see him.

"Besides, he is jetblack, that fish. Therefore, he is wise to hide himself in darkness. I have named him Ying

The symbolism of the dragon was represented by the silver fountain; also by the fighting fish in Li Sheng's

pool. The Shadow noted a golden dragon woven into the crimson of the merchant's robe.

Those symbols, however, could not be taken as proof that Li Sheng was the hidden leader of the Jeho Fan.

The dragon was the ancient standard of old China. Li Sheng's love of the departed past could be sufficient

"I SHALL speak freely, Ying Ko," croaked the old merchant. "There is no need to ignore the purpose of your

visit. I have as my guest a person who calls himself the General Cho Tsing. A few nights ago, he came to my

"Cho Tsing, it seems, was threatened by a secret group called the Jeho Fan, so I persuaded him to remain

here, in safety. Tomorrow night, I expect representatives of the Jeho Fan; also emissaries from the Chinese

"Both shall enjoy my hospitality, while they settle the troublesome details that concern Cho Tsing. Those

The merchant arose. Smiling, he extended his thin hand toward broad steps at the rear of the reception room.

The Shadow accepted the invitation. As he arose from his chair, he placed his cloak and hat over his arm.

Servants watched the tall form of Cranston ascend the short flight of steps beside the stooped figure of Li

A curious clock spoke the hour, with the discordant clangor of Chinese chimes. It was ten o'clock.

Straight across the hall in back of the reception room was a wide, deepset doorway, guarded by two

powerful Mongols, who stood like statues. Each held a long, curved sword crosswise in front of his body.

As Cranston and Li Sheng passed between the silent sentinels, the merchant remarked dryly:

"I stationed these guards to keep unwelcome visitors from the apartment of Cho Tsing. Such an honored

The "protection" reminded The Shadow of Li Sheng's "accidents." It could work two ways. There would be

trouble for any one who tried to enter the guest apartment without Li Sheng's permission. There would be

Li Sheng rapped at the door. It opened; two servants admitted Li Sheng and Cranston. The Shadow knew at

once that these servants were Chinese who had been smuggled through with Cho Tsing.

Li Sheng inquired for the general. A voice spoke from beyond a curtained doorway; the tone was

distinguished in its accent, but weary. It called for the visitors to enter. A servant pulled the curtain aside. Li

A figure was reclining in a large, canopied bed. By the glow of a table lamp, The Shadow recognized the face

Brilliance came to large eyes as they saw Cranston. Cho Tsing's iron jaw tightened. Rising from the pillows,

Cranston seated himself beside the bed. Li Sheng remained in the doorway, to watch the conference between

"I AM ill," spoke Cho Tsing. "My journey from China was a tedious one. My quarters were not quite so

The Shadow knew that Cho Tsing was faking illness, and doing it well. His firm handclasp, unnoticed by Li

At some time, Cho Tsing hoped, there would be a chance for a break from this luxurious prison. He believed

that by pretending to be weak and ill, his chances would be better when the time came. So far, he had gained

Whether or not Li Sheng had guessed Cho Tsing's hope, the merchant constantly kept two swordsmen on

The Shadow spoke to Cho Tsing. His voice was that of Cranston, talking in Chinese, with pauses between

each sentence. Those intervals were natural; for Cranston seemed to be thinking in English; translating his

Though Cranston's face was turned so Li Sheng could not see it, the merchant suspected nothing. He did not

During each pause, Cranston's lips moved; a low whisper escaped them. Between sentences of ordinary

conversation, The Shadow was giving suggestions to Cho Tsing. There was a way whereby the general's

The short chat ended. Cranston rejoined Li Sheng. Together, they passed between the sentinels. The Shadow

observed the lights in the hallway. Unlike the reception room, the glow in the hall came from ordinary

There were three such lights; the central one was directly in front of Cho Tsing's apartment.

The low doorway to the reception room cut off the soft light from that direction. That was something that

WHEN they reached the reception room, Li Sheng was more than courteous. He apologized for the fact that

Cho Tsing was ill; he assured Cranston that the sea voyage had been responsible. Since his arrival here, Cho

"You will learn that for yourself, Ying Ko," concluded Li Sheng, "since you are to be my guest for a while to

Cranston's expression showed open doubt of the statement. Li Sheng added reasons.

"You will remain," he asserted, "until after the Chinese delegates have completed their business with the Jeho

"Of course" Li Sheng added the statement archly "the Jeho Fan may not be pleased with my decision. But

"Whatever their Tao says, is law, with the Jeho Fan. I am quite sure that the Tao Fan will give them any order

Slow minutes followed Li Sheng's utterance. Cranston seemed to be considering the merchant's verdict. At

last, the tall guest arose from his chair. Methodically, Cranston reached for his black cloak. He slid it over his

Gloves were next. When Cranston had drawn them on his hands, he picked up his slouch hat. As he pressed

the brim down upon his forehead, his face was lost from sight. Hidden lips whispered a sinister laugh that did

The Shadow turned toward the outer door. Li Sheng sprang spirally from his chair. He leaped past The

Four servants were in sight again; but The Shadow's hands whipped from his cloak, bringing the holstered

The big Chinese clock was chiming the half hour. Amid that clangor, Li Sheng stepped aside, as if

acknowledging defeat. Suddenly, the merchant sprang beyond the silver fountain. Shielded by the squatty

metal dragon, his position was safe. He was ready to let his servitors battle The Shadow.

Li Sheng screeched a command. There were sounds, like the clash of cymbals, from the side walls of the

room. Huge vases split, their fronts swinging wide. Squatted in the niches were a dozen more Chinese, six to

Their revolvers were leveled. All they awaited was the snap of Li Sheng's fingers. That given, they would

THOUGH the odds were sixteen to one against him, The Shadow still moved slowly forward. Li Sheng

The Shadow whisked about. While guns were sounding their preliminary click. The Shadow headed for the

The unexpected twist startled the Chinese. So did the shots that The Shadow fired as he whirled. The Shadow

picked no targets; his purpose was to throw temporary confusion into the Chinese ranks.

Li Sheng's warriors leaped for the floor, dropping low. Their guns were talking, though, before The Shadow

Timely jabs from the automatics gave The Shadow a moment's respite. An instant later, the reports were lost

amid a mighty blast that far outthundered The Shadow's guns. The whole floor rocked, sprawling the aiming

With that explosion, the center of Li Sheng's reception room hoisted. The silver statue split into fragments.

The fish pool vanished in a geyser of spreading water. Amid the cascade went the shimmering shapes of the

From the quaking floor, The Shadow reached the steps, to look back on the havoc. Jets of water were

shooting upward from broken pipes. Instead of the shallow basin, there gaped a widespread hole. As puffs of

Tough fists gripped revolvers, below ugly faces. The zero hour had struck. Brig Lenbold and Shiv Faxon

were making their thrust to wrest Cho Tsing from Li Sheng's possession. Their sappers had followed

underground passages, to make a final burrow beneath the center of Li Sheng's home.

Blowing their way up from below, the crooks had come to battle it out with Li Sheng's servants. Timing his

own moves to that scheduled invasion, The Shadow was ready to attempt his lone rescue of Cho Tsing.

BATTLE was raging in Li Sheng's reception room a wild, swift fray, with handtohand tactics taking

preference. Brig and Shiv were coming through, with a dozen followers. The Chinese were coming in from

circled formation, hoping to beat them back. Gun hands were slugging as fast as fingers could tug triggers.

The Shadow's business took him elsewhere. He was at the top of the steps, driving for the big guards who

stood outside of Cho Tsing's apartment. As The Shadow sidestepped, one of the Mongols slashed with his

Driving in beneath the blade, The Shadow met the sword at the hilt with an upsweep of an automatic. The

slash flung wide, away from The Shadow's head. There was a backswing of The Shadow's arm. A

gunweighted fist clipped the Mongol's chin. The swordsman sagged; his weapon dropped from his hand.

The Shadow could waste no bullets. They would be needed later. He twisted away from the second guard.

Shoving his guns beneath his cloak, The Shadow made a quick grab for the sword that was on the floor. He

A taunting laugh punctuated the strange duel that followed. The Shadow handled the clumsy Mongol in

whirlwind fashion. Every flash of the blade was followed by a thrust that drove The Shadow's foeman farther

The guard had a twohanded grip on his sword's hilt, hoping to wield it in broadax fashion. He never had

While the muffled staccato of revolvers told that battle continued in the wrecked reception room, The

Shadow slipped past his adversary and turned about. He was driving the Mongol back toward Cho Tsing's

Past the foeman were the three lights that glowed from the ceiling. They explained the purpose of The

A sword thrust; The Shadow's hand whipped back and swung the curved blade with an overhand stroke. The

Mongol leaped back without need. The stroke was not intended for him. Thanks to the length of the sword,

The Shadow reached the first light in the row and smashed it with his sword's point.

New thrusts drove the clumsy Mongol farther. Another quick slash; The Shadow clipped the second light

from the high ceiling. He drove his adversary past the third. This time, the Mongol thought he knew the

As The Shadow swung for the light, the big guard came hacking with a long, twoarmed sweep, using his

sword like a sledge hammer. That clumsy slash was telegraphed the moment it began.

The Shadow twisted his swing. It came downward; then into a sidearmed whip. The flat of the blade lashed

the Mongol's neck, just below his ear. He jolted; the lines of his tawny face froze in an ugly grimace, as the

Before the guard's body had time to thump the floor, The Shadow thrust his own sword upward and shattered

the glass of the last incandescent. The hall was darkened, save for the faint glow that came from below the

GUNSHOTS were less frequent. One side had gained the advantage. The Shadow had lost valued time. He

sprang to the door of Cho Tsing's apartment. It was open; the lights of the apartment were out, in accordance

Shouts sounded from the reception room. The cries were in Chinese. Li Sheng's cohorts had repelled the

invaders. They were coming to fight The Shadow. The clatter of their footsteps pounded from the stairs.

As flashlights glimmered, The Shadow's automatics spat from the darkness. Chinese dodged and flattened;

the path was cleared. Li Sheng, standing below the steps, heard the shout of General Cho Tsing:

Down from the darkened stairs surged the cloaked figure. The Shadow's guns were emptied; Li Sheng was

treated to a display of swordsmanship. Wheeling through the scattered Chinese, the cloaked fighter lashed

That spot was vacated. Brig and Shiv were crippled prisoners; the rest of their attacking crew were wounded

or dead. They were counting on the arrival of reserves. Meanwhile, they saw the ruse designed by The

Li Sheng saw a gloved hand beckoning back toward the stairway. But Cho Tsing wasn't following The

Shadow. Li Sheng cackled gleefully. All had gone well with The Shadow's plans until this final moment; but

it had changed, to give Li Sheng his opportunity. The Shadow was speedy; Cho Tsing was slow. Fate was

Half a dozen quickwitted Chinese rallied like clockwork to Li Sheng's howled command. Three of them

dashed for the stairs, to cut off Cho Tsing. The others drove for The Shadow. Skidding on the slippery,

The cloaked swordsman was at the pit. He saw the menacing guns. He made a quick drop through the

opening. Bullets chopped stone fragments from the fringe. Not a shot reached the human target.

Li Sheng fumed at The Shadow's escape. He hesitated; then padded up the steps, to see what had happened to

Cho Tsing's two faithful servants were shoving their protesting master headlong into the curtained bedroom.

They had good reason for such action. Li Sheng's servants were at the outer door, covering them with

One big swordsman was rising from the floor. Li Sheng ordered him to watch Cho Tsing's door. New

servants had arrived. Li Sheng added them as reserve guards. Taking his three fighters with him, he led a new

dash down to the reception room. There, three waiting Chinese were pleased when they saw their chief's

DOWN through the pit, the seven found a passage. It led them to another burrow; after a second turn, they

Powerful flashlights illuminated the outline of The Shadow. Almost instantly, there was a blaze of light from

This passage was wide. At the far end of it, Li Sheng could discern four roughclad, waiting men. They were

the reserve force that Brig and Shiv expected. The situation was sweet for Li Sheng. The Shadow was trapped

Li Sheng croaked an order. Let the others fire first. They could have the privilege of finishing Ying Ko,

before he reached them with his sword, the only weapon that he still could use. While those invaders were

The shots that sounded from the far end of the passage were not directed toward the approaching figure in

black. They came from beyond the corner. Bullets sprawled the thugs who awaited The Shadow. Yellow

faces poked in sight above the sagging hoodlums. The arrivals were Doctor Tam's loyal Chinese.

Li Sheng's opportunity was lost. He saw Tam's men spread, to let The Shadow through their cordon. A

gloved hand flung away its sword, to receive a revolver. Li Sheng's henchmen quailed. Tam's men were

The trap didn't suit Li Sheng. He had the wrong end of it. He didn't wait for his followers to desert him. He

shouted for retreat; joined the scramble back to safety. Bullets pinged the wall where they had been. Fearful

that The Shadow would overtake them, the merchant and his men scurried upward into their own premises.

Theirs was a mad flight; so rapid that they did not linger long enough to hear The Shadow's laugh. Once in

the reception room, Li Sheng ordered his men to fill the pit with chunks of stone. They did it in a hurry, much

to Li Sheng's satisfaction. There was plenty of debris; enough to block The Shadow and his new allies.

No attack came. Evidently, The Shadow could foresee its fallacy. Brig Lenbold and Shiv Faxon had fared

From somewhere, distant from the house, there was a muffled explosion that satisfied Li Sheng. Tam's men

IN the darkness of that abandoned building, Tam's followers were making their departure, proud that they had

Outside the warehouse, they saw The Shadow meet Doctor Tam. The two rode away in an automobile, while

the remaining Chinese spread and departed on foot. They felt that they had won a victory.

Li Sheng's opinion was the opposite. Secure in his own citadel, the merchant ordered his workers to begin

methodical repairs. The triumph was his, for he had thwarted The Shadow's rescue of Cho Tsing.

After giving instructions for the confinement of Brig Lenbold and Shiv Faxon, Li Sheng went to Cho Tsing's

Both swordsmen were on duty, motionless at their posts. When Li Sheng rapped, the door was opened by

Cho Tsing's fearful servants. Li Sheng smiled blandly when he saw their shakiness. Dryly, he commended

Li Sheng could be generous when he had won a victory. Had he felt himself defeated, Cho Tsing's servants

Li Sheng put the query mildly. The answer came from the bedroom, in the weary voice of Cho Tsing:

"Not yet, Li Sheng. You may enter." Drawing aside the curtain, Li Sheng saw a head rise from its pillow. Cho

"Ying Ko escaped," assured Li Sheng. "But his mission remains unfulfilled. He can find no way to enter here

again. Tomorrow night, Cho Tsing, your visit here will be ended. At that time" the merchant's cackle was

Leaving Cho Tsing silent in the darkness of his bedroom, Li Sheng returned to his damaged reception room.

Calmly, he seated himself in his teakwood chair and surveyed the destruction. Li Sheng's reaction was a

His ruined silver fountain, his lost collection of rare fish were trifles to Li Sheng. He had accomplished

enough to recompense him. He had thwarted The Shadow's purpose; he, Li Sheng, had actually driven the

The Jeho Fan had learned that The Shadow still lived. Precaution would be taken to prevent his interference

outside. That accomplished, Li Sheng would give one absolute guarantee. When the ransom meeting once

Li Sheng's confidence was justified. There were circumstances that made it impossible for The Shadow to

enter the merchant's portals. Tonight, The Shadow had reached a highwater mark in his effort to thwart the

The Shadow had come here knowing that flight would mean failure; the end of his struggle against the Jeho

Fan. He had staked everything on one bold stroke. His whole cause depended upon it.

THERE was news, the next day, of a riot in Chinatown, near the home of Li Sheng. Malefactors had

scattered; the police had found a dead Chinaman in the courtyard. They had made inquiry at the merchant's

No facts leaked regarding the blast in Li Sheng's reception room, and the subsequent turmoil at the old

To Myra Reldon, the news was significant. She knew that the shock troops of the Jeho Fan had watched the

home of Li Sheng. The turmoil outside that house meant that some one had tried to penetrate to the

The cloaked fighter's return worried Myra. She wondered how the Jeho Fan would handle it. There was no

way that she could learn until tonight, when she resumed the guise of Ming Dwan. The inner circle was

The question that Myra asked herself was whether or not she would reach the meeting.

As Myra Reldon, she was known to The Shadow. It was she who had suggested that Cranston meet her at the

Yangtse Restaurant. As Ming Dwan, the girl had told The Shadow that she knew of the appointment. Though

she was positive that The Shadow did not recognize her double identity, he could certainly suspect an

If was true that The Shadow had been at large for several days, since his escape from the Jeho Fan, and had

not sought out Myra during that interval. But that was explained by the fact that the mysterious avenger was

If blocked in his foray against Li Sheng, The Shadow might return to the beginning of his quest. If so, Myra

could expect a visit from the cloaked foeman of the Jeho Fan. Myra didn't like the thought.

She had worked long to gain her present status with the Jeho Fan; at present, she rated next to the Tao

himself. Tonight, of all nights, was the time when Ming Dwan must meet with the inner circle.

Yet, if The Shadow decided that Myra was important, he could easily eliminate her from the proceedings.

As she sat at her desk, the girl's face showed an expression that would have suited Ming Dwan. If she had

suspected that last night's trouble was due, she could easily have transferred her Chinese garb to some place

other than her apartment. Once she had reached the office, that step was too late.

Myra would have to trust to chance that The Shadow would not interfere with her part in the schemes of the

AS five o'clock approached, Myra was faced with other difficulties. They began when Vayne summoned her

"New mystery from the water front," Vayne told Myra. "A pair of notorious racketeers have disappeared. One

of them Shiv Faxon controlled a group of rowdies who made trouble there a few nights ago. The other

Brig Lenbold took protection money from cheap night clubs. It appears, though, that the two worked hand

"The police think that they have 'lammed,' to use the slang expression. But there is no reason why they should

have fled from San Francisco. Both were so well established, that they had nothing to fear from the law."

"I wonder," he mused, "if that pair had Chinatown connections? There was trouble in the Chinese district last

night. I think, Myra, that I shall call a conference tonight, to discuss these matters with the proper authorities.

Call up Mr. Jocelyn and arrange the appointment. You will go with me, Myra, to take notes."

Myra was chewing her lips when she reached her own desk. Jocelyn was an assistant to the Federal district

attorney. Vayne had conferred with him previously; and Myra had been there. That was one night when she

Myra decided to fake some reason why Jocelyn couldn't meet with Vayne. Things broke well when she

telephoned the D.A.; he wasn't in his office. He had gone away that afternoon, and his return was not

Myra gave that news to Vayne, concealing the elation that she felt. Jocelyn's absence was something that

Promptly at five o'clock, Myra left the office. She knew that there was a chance that Jocelyn would learn of

Vayne's call; if so, he would telephone back. Myra didn't want to be around, if such a call came in.

She reached the apartment, to find Helen Toriss there. Soon afterward, the telephone bell began to ring. Myra

told her friend not to answer it. The call was probably from Vayne, to say that he had contacted Jocelyn and

He could do without her, or postpone his conference with the assistant D.A., whichever he chose. Tomorrow,

Chinese watchers were absent tonight. They were needed in Chinatown, to cover the assemblage of the inner

Ordinarily, that would have pleased Myra, for it showed how well she had preserved her dual identity, even

from the Jeho Fan. Tonight, though, she would have preferred the Chinese cordon, as a protective ring against

MYRA was nervous as she sat before her mirror, streaking her shoulders with washable yellow dye. She saw

a motion of the window shade, reflected in the mirror. She bobbed from the chair and grabbed the revolver

As she stood there, aiming with one hand while she clutched the girdling bathrobe with the other, she was

neither Myra Reldon nor Ming Dwan. Her features were American; their color Chinese. Below her shoulders

If The Shadow had reached that window, he had certainly learned the girl's game.

The shade stirred again. Myra decided that it was moved by a fluttering breeze, through the halfopened

window. She returned to her dressing table and completed her makeup. She dressed in the Chinese clothes

Her false countenance gave her a return of nerve. Stepping to the door, the girl used Myra's voice. She asked

As soon as she heard the outer door close, Myra slipped through the living room and went out through the

Though she had the dragon's tooth in her hand, Ming Dwan had no need to display that token. Chinese were

absent from the gloom behind the apartment building. Nevertheless, Ming Dwan's course was more cautious

than ever. At any moment, the girl expected a gloved hand to swish from darkness and clamp her shoulder.

What she would do if The Shadow trapped her, was a pressing problem to Ming Dwan. She could be

persuasive when it came to explanations; but she doubted that The Shadow would accept them. He had gone

It seemed ages to the girl before she reached the streets of Chinatown. Once there, she breathed easily as she

joined the shuffling crowds. All nervousness had left the features of Ming Dwan. Her expression was tinged

At a given spot, Ming Dwan saw a lounging Chinaman. She showed the dragon's tooth. He displayed the

same token; motioned the girl to the doorway of a curio shop. Once inside, Ming Dwan was admitted to a

basement, where another servant of the Jeho Fan steered her to an underground passage.

There were many ways to the underground headquarters. Old routes vanished after they had once been used.

She reached an anteroom; but did not bother to don a mask that she saw there. The others could use them if

they chose; but Ming Dwan considered a mask unnecessary. As the only woman in the inner circle, her

THE Tao was on his throne. He spoke in pleased tone, through the lips of his devilmask.

"You have foreseen my choice, Ming Dwan," announced the Tao. "One of us must go, undisguised, to speak

with the delegates from China. Others" he waved his hand toward the masked group "have too much at

stake, to let themselves be known. They hold important places in the usual affairs of Chinatown.

"You shall leave San Francisco after you have completed tonight's mission. You shall be rewarded, both for

your effort and the inconvenience that will follow. These two" he delegated a pair of members "will

The Tao placed a small silver box in Ming Dwan's hands. Rising from his throne, he strode from the meeting

room. Others of the depleted inner circle went along, to receive the Tao's own instructions.

When Ming Dwan opened the silver box, the only men present were the two that the Tao had appointed to

In the box, Ming Dwan found instructions, with a complicated diagram that showed a chain of underground

passages, with pitfalls along the route. She destroyed the paper after memorizing its details. With the two

She used a flashlight to pick the path through darkened passages. At times, they came to lighted corridors.

They met brawny Mongols who barred the way with snarls and revolvers, to step aside when Ming Dwan

Along the route, Ming Dwan noted that connecting corridors had been chiseled through the rock, to reach

other underground avenues. It was fully twenty minutes before the trio arrived at a cellar where a few guards

One of that group solemnly conducted the arrivals up a flight of stairs to a small room that had one other exit.

The door was opened; Ming Dwan and her masked companions stepped into a courtyard.

The newly fashioned route had brought them through one of the old buildings in the block surrounding Li

Sheng's mansion. They were in the space that fronted the merchant's house. Ming Dwan could see the backs

of the metal gates that the Jeho Fan had stormed. Those barriers were mounted on new huge hinges, stronger

Ming Dwan knocked for admittance at Li Sheng's front door. She knew that eyes were peering from windows

above; that gun muzzles were poked through gratings that served as loopholes. If any unwanted visitor

Li Sheng was ready for The Shadow. The bland, bespectacled doorman admitted the visitors. He conducted

them by a direct route to Li Sheng's reception room, avoiding all the pitfalls that The Shadow had

LI SHENG was standing in welcome. Tonight, his reception room boasted no tinkling fountain, with its pool

of dragon fish. Instead, the center of the room formed a platform, surfaced with slabs of stone. There was a

Ming Dwan recognized their faces. They had been pictured in the morning newspapers. They were the

delegates from China, who had come to America for the supposed purpose of raising funds.

Between them lay a large, brassbound box. As Ming Dwan and her associates approached, one of the

There, stacked in compact bundles, were piles of United States currency, big figures showing from the crisp

green paper. Openly, the men from China were acknowledging the power of the Jeho Fan. They were ready

Ten million dollars awaited the grasp of Ming Dwan's slender hands; and the ominous figure of The Shadow

THE Chinese delegates showed perplexity when they saw Ming Dwan. One turned to Li Sheng, with the

"I have never met the Tao face to face," he declared. "I know only that he has chosen this woman Ming

Looks were exchanged by the two delegates. They could see a reason for Ming Dwan's appointment. If Li

Sheng were the Tao Fan, he could not receive the ransom money personally and still be present as a neutral.

Li Sheng saw the looks. His smile was bland, inviting the delegates to seek all the proof they wanted. They

"I am honored," croaked Li Sheng, "to be of service to all. I have shown hospitality to the man who calls

himself Cho Tsing. I am master of this house; and I pledge myself to fairness. I have been careful to admit

"Once the ransom is paid, I shall insure the safe departure of each faction. You, Ming Dwan, shall carry the

ten million dollars to your Tao. Cho Tsing shall go with the friends who have ransomed him. But before

payment is made" Li Sheng raised a long finger "we must make sure that my guest is actually Cho

There was no doubt in Li Sheng's tone. The merchant knew well enough that he had received the kidnapped

general within these portals. But it was Li Sheng's wary way to maintain pretense throughout. That would

SOON, a procession came from the stairway at the rear of the reception room. First, one of Li Sheng's

swordbearers. Then the figure of Cho Tsing, garbed in a long, drab robe; a skullcap on his bowed head. The

prisoner's steps were draggy. His servants were supporting him on either side. Behind them came the second

The Chinese delegates lowered their own gaze. They knew the misery that this could mean to Cho Tsing. It

would mean the end of the general's long career; a voluntary retirement through selfaccepted disgrace.

China would lose a valued military organizer, noted for his ability to bring peace between warring factions.

The ransom, once paid, would be a reward for Cho Tsing's past services; not for his future efforts.

There was no pity on the face of Ming Dwan. Her curled smile showed a hard disdain, that pleased the

lieutenants who were with her. Their eyes glittered through the bulging fronts of the devilmasks.

Li Sheng registered no feeling whatever. He waited until Cho Tsing had slumped into a chair at the end of the

"If this man should not be Cho Tsing, there will be no ransom. He will be free to depart "

A strange laugh riveted Li Sheng, along with the others. The figure of Cho Tsing straightened. A shake of the

head sent the skullcap to the floor. Quick hands threw back the robe; discarded it with one sweeping motion.

The personage who stood before the amazed onlooker was an American, clad in tuxedo. His hawkish

countenance was that of Lamont Cranston. The challenging laugh from his fixed lips announced the identity

Li SHENG'S eyes blinked as the riddle unfolded itself within his brain. The Shadow had expected last night's

thrust by Brig Lenbold and Shiv Faxon and had prepared a ruse to follow it. He had foreseen that Li Sheng's

chief effort would be to prevent the escape of Cho Tsing. Therefore, The Shadow had prepared a way out for

In the darkness outside the guest apartment, The Shadow had covered Cho Tsing with cloak and hat. The

Shadow had fired the last shots from his automatics, to clear the way. Cho Tsing had shouted for The Shadow

But the figure that had dashed down the steps, swinging a big sword, had not been The Shadow. That cloaked

As his guest for the past twentyodd hours, Li Sheng had been keeping the formidable Ying Ko. All the

while, the crafty merchant had been taking every possible measure to prevent The Shadow from again

All this was a blank to the Chinese delegates. They simply arose and locked the box that contained the

ransom money. While one tucked the box under his arm, the other pointed to Cranston.

"This is not Cho Tsing," said the delegate. "We have no cause to remain, Li Sheng. Let your servants conduct

Ming Dwan let her slanted eyes shift from Cranston, to watch Li Sheng's reaction. Would the merchant act as

the intermediary that he was supposed to be; or would he reveal himself as the Tao, here ahead of his own

"You may go," he told the delegates, as he waved his thin hand toward the doorway. Then, facing Cranston,

he added, blandly: "You also, Ying Ko. I have no cause to insist upon your presence, since Cho Tsing is no

The Shadow watched for the answer. Li Sheng nodded to the bespectacled guide. Whichever door the man

opened, Li Sheng's purpose would be known. There were several doors; one of them offered a direct route to

the courtyard. The Shadow knew that door from the plans that Doctor Tam had shown him.

There was a sparkle from the eyes of Ming Dwan. Her pursed lips tightened. That was the door through

which she and her companions had come. She knew that Li Sheng was fulfilling his promise to the Chinese

Before the girl could utter a word, the two masked men started a protest to Li Sheng. Their gestures carried

threat; but the merchant merely smiled. He snapped his fingers; four servants closed around the masked pair

Solemnly, Li Sheng bowed to Cranston, indicating that The Shadow could accompany the men with the ten

The Chinaman with the spectacles was opening the door. Some one gave it a thrust from the other side. A

booming voice hurled challenge from the threshold. In the doorway stood the masked figure of the Tao Fan!

THE leader of the Jeho Fan had come without announcement. Behind him, grouped in a supporting cluster,

were the other masked members of the inner circle. As the Tao stepped toward Li Sheng, the rest formed a

Li Sheng met the challenge. He snapped an order to his servants. Only two responded; they were the Mongol

swordsmen. Threateningly, they approached the Tao. A laugh of hate came from his devilmask. The Tao

Li Sheng's four servants trained their guns on the merchant. The vases cracked open along the walls, to reveal

rows of aiming marksmen. But those Chinese servitors were not looking to Li Sheng for orders. They were

Despite his shrewdness; his willingness to deal with the Jeho Fan, Li Sheng was a man who kept the promises

he gave. That was why the Jeho Fan had used him as an intermediary; but it also explained the present

The Tao had secretly bought out the bulk of Li Sheng's bodyguard. Only the bespectacled guide and the two

While others stood stupefied by new circumstances, The Shadow acted. He had foreseen trouble from the

moment that Li Sheng admitted defeat. As the big vases opened wide, The Shadow's guns whipped into view.

As Cranston, he lacked the formidable appearance of Ying Ko; but that did not mar his speed in battle.

Roaring their accompaniment to The Shadow's weird, sardonic laugh, big automatics tongued their messages

toward the walls. Chinese sharpshooters toppled before they could fire. Li Sheng's treacherous servants were

as helpless as the racked targets in a shooting gallery, as The Shadow pumped his alternating fire, turning his

The Shadow's action brought prompt response from men who became his allies. Li Sheng usually let others

do his fighting; but he discarded that policy. Producing a gun, the merchant aimed for the four traitors who

stood near the table. Cho Tsing's servants were armed; The Shadow had seen to that. They followed Li

So did the Chinese delegates. They had brought guns to protect their ten million dollars. A terrific fray began

The big Mongol swordsmen were slashing at the masked members of the Jeho Fan. Those huge curved

swords were terrible weapons against fighters less speedy than The Shadow. The fight throughout the

reception room was an equal one, when The Shadow finished with the Chinese in the niches.

Then came the break that predicted disaster for The Shadow. Li Sheng saw it; but was helpless to intervene,

Turning to face across the table, The Shadow looked squarely into a gun muzzle aimed by the Tao Fan. That

masked leader had left the battle near the doorway, to gain a closerange shot at the figure of Cranston.

It was too late, thought Li Sheng, to save the life of Ying Ko, to whom the merchant had promised safe

The girl had dropped from sight, the moment that the battle began. Crouched beside the table, she was

clutching her small revolver. Her Chinese makeup gave her face a tigerish look; all the while, her eyes had

Ming Dawn saw the glitter of the Tao's eyes, through the big orbs in his devilmask. She spied the aimed

revolver in the gauntleted hand that fronted the Tao's brilliant dragon robe. She heard the hard hiss of

It was a moment that Ming Dwan had expected. She knew that the Tao had gained his chance to drill The

The bullet jolted the devilfaced leader of the Jeho Fan. His trigger finger paused, struck by a pang that

reached it from his shoulder. His aim wavered; but he tightened, despite another bullet that came from Ming

The Tao delivered a single shot; his bullet, coming from a shifted gun, went whistling wide of Cranston's

shoulder. The Shadow's automatic answered, drowning the third report that crackled from Ming Dwan's

The murderous Tao slumped straight downward; his hands flopped the table edge, to sprawl him backward.

Ming Dwan came up beside the table, gazing toward Cranston. The look that he gave amazed her. It seemed

The girl realized that The Shadow had depended upon her action. That was why he had so coolly

concentrated on the traitors who lined the walls. The Shadow had known that Myra would aid him in this

The one foe that The Shadow had expected was the Tao Fan. That enemy had come; and Myra had not failed.

The Shadow's laugh was a whispered tone. It told all that he had expected; and more. Instinctively, the girl

Myra's eyes were frozen with amazement. The gasp from her lips was her own, not Ming Dwan's. For the

first time, she saw the Tao Fan unmasked in the light. The devil's head had rolled from above his shoulders,

A face that could be recognized, despite the evil gloat that had registered upon it, to remain fixed by sudden

BATTLE ended with the death of Vayne. Members of the Jeho Fan saw their dead leader, unmasked like

themselves; for they had lost their devilfaces in the fray. Li Sheng saw faces that he recognized, those of

Their eyes were squinty, when they saw Vayne's face. For the first time, they learned that their Tao was an

American. Suddenly, their own plight struck them. They were prisoners of Cranston, and he was Ying Ko,

Most of the survivors were too crippled to make trouble. A few, however, started frantically to resume the

fight. They were near the doorway; one broke through as Li Sheng's Mongols used the long swords to block

To Li Sheng, the escape of one prisoner meant nothing. It was The Shadow who foresaw what the

consequence could be. Leaving the prisoners under Li Sheng's control, The Shadow sprang in pursuit of the

Myra heard his quick command to follow. She hurried after the striding form of Cranston.

The fleeing member of the Jeho Fan reached the courtyard ahead of them. He had a purpose that gave him

speed. The Tao was dead; the others of the inner circle likewise dead or captured. If that one survivor could

rally the lurking hordes of the Jeho Fan, he would become the new Tao of a reorganized society.

From the center of the courtyard, the fellow gave a shout. Out from the doorway of the other house came

slinky fighters of the Jeho Fan. Ropes swung from rooftops. More men came scrambling downward, like

The Shadow was at Li Sheng's front door. He was calmly reloading his automatics. He was taking advantage

Myra, too, saw a chance to use those moments. As she stopped beside Cranston, the girl placed a whistle to

That was not the only signal. The Shadow delivered one a strident laugh that carried to the housetops.

Foemen heard it; they came bounding from all directions, hoping to wrest victory from Ying Ko. The

Shadow greeted them with longrange fire. He spilled a foe with every bullet; but still they surged onward.

Shoving Myra behind him, The Shadow used the doorway as cover against flanking fire. He withered those

who tried to aim from the open. There was no need to reserve extra cartridges. The Shadow had allies close at

They bobbed up along the edges of the house roofs: Chinese provided by Doctor Tam. During the day, they

had made stealthy entry into empty houses, lurking there unknown to the Jeho Fan. They had been watching

By holding his signal, The Shadow had brought enemies down to the courtyard. Tam's men had no opposition

above. From the parapets, they fired down upon The Shadow's enemies, scattering them to cover.

There came an answer to Myra's signal. Shots beyond the big gates; a pause, then an explosion that broke the

barrier and tumbled chunks of stone from the archway. In half a minute, a squad was pouring through the

THE SHADOW recognized the leader of that group. He was Vic Marquette, a government man, bringing a

squad of Feds. The remnants of the Jeho Fan were scurrying for their ratholes. Myra sprang past The Shadow,

The Feds poured in pursuit. Myra saw them overtake the fleeing Chinese, down in the secret passage.

Prisoners were hauled up into the courtyard. Among them came that last member of the inner circle, who had

Looking across the courtyard, Myra saw Cranston ascending the steps to the broken gates. She called; but he

kept out through the archway. Myra hurried after him; when she reached the street, she caught another

Cranston was standing beside a halted automobile. Two courteous Chinese were holding a cloak and hat. As

Cranston donned those garments, he became The Shadow. He stepped into the car; the Chinese joined him.

WHEN Myra returned to Li Sheng's she found Vic Marquette in charge. A darkish, mustached individual,

Vic usually had a gloomy air about him; but tonight he was elated. He introduced Myra to the Chinese

The Chinese were amazed to learn that Myra was an American. Marquette explained further.

"Myra lived a long while in China," he explained. "That's why we put her on the job in Frisco. We couldn't

figure where the leaks were coming from in all this smuggling business. So Myra handled a double job. She

was Vayne's secretary in the daytime, and Ming Dwan in the evenings. It was as Ming Dwan that she

"I never suspected Vayne," she declared. "He must have found out that the government put me on the job. I

suspected persons at the office, one after another; but every trail proved false."

"Vayne was smart," agreed Marquette. "We'll probably find his office wired, so he could hear everything you

Myra nodded. She knew, at last, how the Jeho Fan had learned of her date with Cranston.

"Only there was one thing Vayne didn't guess," added Marquette. "He never linked you as Ming Dwan. So

Marquette talked to the visiting Chinese. He learned that they had heard from Cho Tsing before their trip to

Li Sheng's. The general had ordered them to go through with the ransom business, in order to trap the Jeho

As for Li Sheng, they had no charges to prefer against him. The merchant admitted himself as intermediary;

but declared that his fear of the Jeho Fan had been partly responsible for his deed. He had, as yet, received no

Therefore, his support of The Shadow and the Chinese delegates was accepted as proof that Li Sheng

belonged on the side of justice. Marquette ordered the removal of all prisoners, including those who had been

"Tell me, Vic," she asked, "did The Shadow know who I was when he first met me?"

"Then that was why he suspected Vayne!" exclaimed the girl. "He only talked to the two of us."

"I had to meet him as Ming Dwan," reviewed Myra. "But the Jeho Fan had traced him to the Yangtse

Restaurant before I arrived there. I tried to help, by taking him to the Tao. I knew that I could rescue him

"Instead, The Shadow aided me. He wanted me to hold my standing with the Jeho Fan. That's why he dived

past the revolving blade. I helped him later, though, when I said that The Shadow had thrown the guard into

"Only, I never thought I could explain it to The Shadow. I didn't want to meet him, after that. I didn't

Marquette was ready to convoy the ten million dollars to a bank vault. He asked Myra if she wanted to come

"I'm going back to the apartment," said Myra, "to get rid of these Chinese trappings. Helen will probably faint

when she sees me. At last, I can tell her why the Jeho Fan watched the apartment."

There was one more question that occurred to Myra. She began to ask it as they reached the street.

"You said once, Vic, that you had met The Shadow, but didn't know who he was. If The Shadow is Lamont

"He isn't," he interjected. "Nobody knows who he is. He goes places as Cranston, that's all. But don't worry

ELSEWHERE, The Shadow was seated with two Chinese: Doctor Roy Tam and General Cho Tsing. His

cloak and hat lay on Tam's desk. Garbed in the immaculate style of Cranston, The Shadow was describing the

"Once before," he remarked, "I met the masked Tao. It began when I recognized Ming Dwan as Myra

Reldon, at the Yangtse Restaurant. She thought that I needed her aid to escape. Instead, I had already chosen

"I was pleased when she offered assistance. It meant that I would be carried to the headquarters of the Jeho

Fan. That promised opportunity to destroy the organization from within. I hoped to deal with the Tao then.

"Unfortunately" Cranston's tone showed recollection of that ordeal "there are snares so deep that they

offer no opportunity except escape. That trap was one. I was forced to postpone my settlement with the Tao."

Another postponed meeting came to The Shadow's mind. His smile was Cranston's, as he reached for the

At her apartment, Myra had lost no time in shedding her Ming Dwan garb. She was at her dressing table,

removing the adhesive strips beside her eyelids. He eyes were their rounded shape once more.

Helen watched in astonishment, while the yellow dye disappeared as Myra applied great gobs of cold cream

"For you, Myra," she informed. Myra's slippered feet showed no hurry as she came out to the living room. It

was probably Vic Marquette, calling to remind her that he would want a full report. But when she spoke into

the telephone, a puzzled expression showed upon the face that was once more Myra's own.

"I am late?" she asked. "Late? For dinner?... Why, come to think of it, I haven't had dinner tonight, at all! I'm

Myra's perplexity faded suddenly. She recognized the voice; something else, that the speaker mentioned.

"At the Yangtse Restaurant... Yes, I can make it in half an hour, Mr. Cranston. This time, you can depend

Myra's hand was motionless, still holding the receiver. That was why she heard the whispered sound that

came from it an audible, fading tone of mirth, an echo that seemed to nullify all menace of the past.