Shadow would prepare for the grand climax that was sure to come.
CHAPTER XIV
THE DEATH WEB
OF all the quiet spots in New York’s Chinatown, the Tai Yuan Oriental Shop was most placid and unobtrusive. It was located on a narrow street, away from the din that characterized other thoroughfares of the quaint district. It occupied the ground floor of a building that stood by itself, and it was presided over by a bland-faced Chinaman who was the very picture of integrity.
None would have suspected the Tai Yuan as a blind for a hop joint. In fact, the place had long been open to inspection by the authorities. The quiet proprietor, Wing Goy, was a man of estimable status. Never, in all the years that he had dwelt in Chinatown, had Wing Goy been implicated in anything that savored of crime.
There were other shops in Chinatown that bore a similar reputation, but there was one fact about the Tai Yuan that made it different. That was the location. Away from the spots where sightseers flocked, the Tai Yuan could not expect its share of trade. Nevertheless, Wing Goy seemed satisfied.
Other Orientals had shaken their heads and chattered about Wing Goy’s folly. Money could be made by Wing Goy if he used wisdom. But Wing Goy used no wisdom. As one Oriental phrased it, Wing Goy “had cast his fish line in a pail” - but that was Wing Goy’s affair. Let him be a fool if he so chose.
The Tai Yuan Shop was divided into several rooms, with passages between. The rooms were stocked with odd furnishings from tiny Oriental trinkets, to huge carved cabinets. It was seldom that any of these articles - even the smallest - were sold, yet Wing Goy never worried. From before noon until late at night, he sat placidly near the door that led to the street, and surveyed the few idlers who passed the place.
When prospective purchasers entered - as they did but seldom - Wing Goy made no effort to induce them to buy. They were welcome, but they were never encouraged to go through the stock rooms of the shop.
Wing Goy and his family lived on the second floor of the building. There was a third floor where servants dwelt; above that, a small fourth story. Widely separated windows designated these living quarters. The fourth floor, low and windowless, was evidently a storeroom.
On this particular night, while Wing Goy sat blinking just inside the door, a strange visitor came to the silent street outside the shop. The person who approached gave no sign of his presence. Only a faint rustling in the darkness announced the fact that a living being was approaching the shop. At length, a vague, long splotch of blackness extended itself across the threshold, where it obscured the dim rays of feeble light that emanated from the shop.
Wing Goy came toward the door. It was closing time. In accordance with his usual procedure, he was about to shut the shop for the night. His long, bony hand rested upon the edge of the door. Within a few minutes, that door would be closed and triple barred.
IT was then that Wing Goy paused to stare at the vague blotch that lay before the doorway. Here was a spot where Wing Goy had always seen light. Tonight, that spot was dark. It was not his own form that caused the shadowy blackness. Wing Goy discerned that fact as he stepped within the doorway.
A trace of curiosity showed upon the Chinaman’s bland face. With calm indifference, Wing Goy stepped into the street and peered toward the sidewalk on the other side. He moved a few paces from the doorway; as he did, the blackness on the threshold materialized suddenly, but silently. A tall, inky figure came momentarily into view then swept into the shop. When Wing Goy turned back to the doorway, he was too late to see the fleeting shape, but his almond eyes became suddenly fixed in gaze.
Again, Wing Goy was looking at the bottom of the doorway. The splotch of blackness was no longer there. Unknown to Wing Goy, The Shadow, strange being of the night, had stepped from darkness into the gloom of the Tai Yuan Shop!
With unfeigned alarm, Wing Goy toddled rapidly back into the shop. His mind was ill at ease. He had seen a shadow on the threshold; now it was gone. Wing Goy inferred that a shadow that moved must mean the presence of a human being. Someone had come and gone from outside the doorway. Wing Goy had seen nothing of a person in the street. Therefore, Wing Goy reasoned, someone must have entered the shop.
Wing Goy’s first action was to close the door and bar it. Then he looked toward a thick ironwork that blocked all passage to the stairs that led to the floor above. No one could have passed that barrier. Wing Goy began an inspection of the shop.
The Chinaman’s search carried him throughout the floor. When it had ended, Wing Goy breathed in relief. He was sure that no one was here; but before he could be positive, there was one spot that he must inspect. Wing Goy pushed his way through scattered articles of furniture, and came to a thick portion of the wall that projected like an interior chimney.
Stooping to the floor, Wing Goy raised a baseboard molding. He made a slight motion, and a portion of the projecting wall moved upward. It showed a cavity, some three feet square, with a five-foot opening. Wing Goy satisfied himself that no one was in the artfully concealed hiding place. He stooped again, and the raised wall descended. Wing Goy moved a taboret in front of the spot.
While the Chinaman was thus engaged, there was motion on the other side of the room. The door of a large cabinet was opening. From it, with utmost stealth, emerged the figure of The Shadow. The being in black had been watching; now that Wing Goy had inadvertently disclosed the secret of this room, The Shadow was approaching.
Had Wing Goy been looking in any direction except toward the floor, he would have had no knowledge of The Shadow’s advance. But Wing Goy, still peering downward, saw a long, black silhouette creeping forward at his feet. Leaping up and turning quickly, the Chinaman found himself staring into eyes that peered from beneath the brim of a black slouch hat.
Like a flash, Wing Goy leaped forward, throwing his bony hands toward The Shadow’s neck. He was quick to begin the struggle, and he emitted a wild cry as he hurled himself at this mysterious foe. In a trice, Wing Goy’s cry turned to a choking gurgle. Black-gloved hands, thrusting from the dark, had caught around the Chinaman’s throat.
The Shadow had proven quicker than Wing Goy. The bland proprietor of the Tai Yuan Shop collapsed, helpless. The Shadow, whisking a mass of thick silk foulards from a taboret, gagged and bound the helpless man.
The job was done none too soon. Peering into the room was the yellow face of a gigantic Chinaman. This servant of Wing Goy, stationed near the back of the shop, had heard his master’s call. He had come to investigate its source.
MOVING with Oriental stealth, the huge servant was instinctively approaching the spot where The Shadow was binding his master. The big Chinaman could see no living form, but his sharp eyes detected a wavering blackness by the wall.
Had the would-be rescuer continued his slow approach, he might have taken The Shadow unaware. But the moment that the Chinaman’s eyes saw motion, they registered a need for action. A yellow hand swung upward, carrying a flashing knife blade as the huge Chinese leaped forward.
The Shadow sensed the attack. The black-brimmed hat swung suddenly. The burning eyes stared straight up toward the leaping form of the Chinese. The knife blade was flashing downward now; two black hands came up to meet it.
With swift, sure skill, The Shadow caught the Chinaman’s wrist. His other hand gripped the big man’s body. In a moment, the two were grappling beside the prostrate form of Wing Goy.
The Chinaman was a powerful brute - chosen as a guardian by Wing Goy because of his superhuman strength. He had the advantage in the fight; for The Shadow had been unable to do more than ward off the fatal knife thrust.
But as the fighting forms swung back and forth across the floor, The Shadow gained ground. Against the wall, he rose slowly, the Chinaman with him; then, bracing himself, The Shadow bent his lithe body downward.
Up came his sinister shape with all the snap of a catapult. The huge Chinaman shot head-foremost over The Shadow’s shoulders. His knife flew out ahead of him. His wild hands clawed in space. His head and shoulders crashed upon a taboret. The wood splintered as the man fell and rammed his forehead against a stout cabinet. The
