The Fate Joss

CHAPTER I THE SHADOW’S QUEST

CHINATOWN’S lights were aglow. Beneath the sultry night they formed an exotic glare throughout this bizarre section of Manhattan. A city within a city, Chinatown was a splash of Oriental splendor centered within drab surroundings.

Blobbed blackness fringed the Chinese quarter. To those who approached Chinatown’s center, there were darkened stretches to be passed through, secluded thoroughfares that gave no indication of the brilliance that lay ahead.

To ordinary visitors, those outlying regions offered no significance; but to those who knew the ways of Chinatown, the fringing borders were important. They were like the suburbs of a miniature metropolis. Though they seemed no part of Chinatown, they were actually inhabited by quiet, retiring Celestials, the overflow of those who dwelt in the quarter itself.

Blackened windows above obscure thoroughfares. Any one of those casements might be a lookout spot for spying eyes. On many nights, passers might traverse these streets unnoticed; but on this sultry evening, slanty eyes were sure to be on observation duty.

For Chinatown had begun to seethe beneath its surface of placidity. It had become an area of rumor, wherein cautious voices babbled their high-pitched dialects. Mystery was afoot; and those who talked of it were wise to confide only in their closest associates.

Blackness enshrouded in blackness. Such was the weird figure that moved along the gloomy sidewalk of a side street. Bound toward Chinatown, this weird figure clung close to the darkened fronts of houses that were seemingly deserted. If there were eyes above, they did not see this being of blackness.

That stalking form was the cloaked figure of The Shadow.

Chinatown was one of The Shadow’s habitats. He knew its ways; its people; he had friends amid the dwellers in that district. The rumors that irked Mongol minds had reached The Shadow’s ears. Because of those reports, he had chosen to keep his visit secret.

The Shadow’s course was swift despite his caution. His gliding pace slackened, however, as he reached a turn in the narrow street. As he passed that point, The Shadow could see the glow of the central district. He was almost within sight of the corner of Mott and Pell — the Times Square of Chinatown.

Pausing, The Shadow gazed keenly along the street ahead. He watched strolling figures pass from view. He eyed windows above; satisfied that they were unoccupied, he glided into momentary view, moving straight toward a row of lighted shops that lined the intervening stretch between this point and the lighted district. Almost at the first shop, The Shadow turned suddenly. His cloaked form blended with the blackness of an alleyway.

There was a single shop just off the street; an obscure store that seemed to have been crowded into the alleyway through lack of a better location. It was a place that could hardly hope for business; for its display windows were but dimly lighted and the shop’s lone door looked uninviting.

The Shadow could easily have passed that one store unobserved. Instead, he turned and entered the shop itself.

A LONE Celestial was seated at a table in the corner. He was occupied with an account book and his form was almost out of sight behind a counter laden with Oriental curios. The Chinaman did not hear The Shadow’s entry; nor did the visitor seek to make him aware of it. Instead, The Shadow glided past the counter and stopped before a paneled wall near the rear of the shop.

He pressed a hidden spring. The panel opened. The cloaked figure joined the blackness beyond the opening and the wall slid shut. The watchdog at the desk had failed to detect The Shadow’s arrival.

Mazelike passages formed a labyrinth ahead. The Shadow followed corridors, down steps and up; he was guided by dim ceiling lights that shone at intervals. At times, he paused to listen to the rhythmic tramp of guards; when those had faded he went onward.

There were various passages to be chosen; there were metal barriers that blocked the way. The Shadow knew which paths to choose; he also understood the secrets of the doorways. Panels opened at his pressure; when he had passed the final one, The Shadow stood in a square room, where paneled walls were visible amid soft light.

Instantly, a panel arose at the rear of the room. A voice spoke melodiously. The Shadow heard the welcome and entered an inner chamber. There, amid Oriental surroundings, sat a placid-faced Chinaman, clad in maroon robes so dark in hue that they were almost as The Shadow’s black.

The panel dropped immediately after The Shadow’s entrance. The visitor from the night was in the presence of Yat Soon, the arbiter of Chinatown.

Old friends: The Shadow and Yat Soon. Both believed in justice; each had his way of gaining it. The Shadow, by open battle against men of crime; Yat Soon, through judicial decisions that he rendered to disputing factions within the borders of Chinese influence.

Evidently Yat Soon had expected this black-cloaked visitor; for the arbiter’s greeting, delivered in perfect English, was one of quiet dignity. Viewing The Shadow, Yat Soon could see no features other than a pair of gleaming eyes, for The Shadow’s hat brim obscured the upper portion of his visage, while the folds of his cloak collar covered his chin.

Yat Soon, however, was accustomed to see this visitor garbed in such fashion. He expressed no curiosity.

Instead, he bowed profoundly as The Shadow spoke in reply. Uttering words in the Chinese tongue, The Shadow was returning salutations. His voice continued in singsong fashion, as he explained the purpose of his visit. From beneath his cloak, he drew forth a folded sheet of rice paper; with gloved hand, he extended it to Yat Soon.

Soberly, the arbiter read a message that consisted entirely of Chinese characters. His perusal ended, Yat Soon spoke.

“HONORED friend,” he said, in English, “you tell me that this letter has reached you through the Chinese general, Cho Tsing. We were friends in China, Cho Tsing and I, in the days when he was governor of the ancient province of Jehol.

“It is apparent that you are his friend as well. You, whom he addresses as Ying Ko, which means The Shadow. For he requests that you regain the Fate Joss that was stolen from the temple of Je Ho. As Cho Tsing had said, that ancient temple has long been closed. It would be well, could he reopen it for those who have made such request. But without the Fate Joss, he cannot do so. There are those who would believe that Cho Tsing himself had stolen the Fate Joss.”

A pause. The Shadow put a question in Chinese. Yat Soon nodded and spoke blandly.

“Many Chinese,” he stated, “have heard it said that the Fate Joss is here in America. That is why they speak among themselves, those whom you may pass upon the street. They say: ‘The Fate Joss is powerful; the Fate Joss can be carried nowhere against his own will’; that, indeed, is their belief.”

Once more, The Shadow spoke. Yat Soon listened to a statement; then repeated it in English as he gave his explanation:

“You say that the Fate Joss has been stolen from China,” remarked the arbiter. “It is true that the Fate Joss has been removed from the temple of Je Ho and brought to America. But the man who took it — whether bad or good — was but an instrument of the Joss itself.

“That, honored friend, is the belief. It may seem strange, perhaps, to believe that a huge statue of bronze and gold can will its own destiny, yet those who honor the Fate Joss do so believe. I, as an arbiter, can do no more than concede to their wishes in this case.”

The Shadow spoke. Yat Soon showed the slightest flicker of a smile. The Chinaman bowed his head in agreement.

“What you have said is true,” declared Yat Soon. “Should you gain possession of the Fate Joss and return it to General Cho Tsing, you would have my full approval. I, Yat Soon the arbiter, would then declare that you, The Shadow, had been an instrument in its return.

“There are others, however, who may seek to gain the Fate Joss. Should they do so, I can not dispute their possession. As with you, honored friend, I would be forced to say that they were instruments of the Joss.

“No one can steal the Fate Joss. It may be carried from one place to another. Money may be paid for its possession; but the belief will still remain that the Joss has power to go where it may choose.

“Should strife begin because of the Fate Joss; should men do actual evil, murdering those who stand in their path, then I, as arbiter, can denounce them for their crimes. Until such time, however, I can decide only that he who holds the Fate Joss is entitled to its possession.

“Yat Soon has spoken.”

THE Chinaman’s final sentence was like a formal signature. The Shadow’s eyes were keen as they surveyed the arbiter’s bland face. Yat Soon’s words were fully understandable to the spectral visitor.

Should The Shadow choose to take up the quest of the Fate Joss, he would have Yat Soon’s full approval. That was the first point that he had come here to gain. The Shadow knew that all Chinatown was agog; that talk of the Fate Joss had swept to outlying districts of New York, wherever isolated Chinese dwelt.

His purpose, therefore, was twofold. Not only did he wish to return the Fate Joss to China, as a favor to General Cho Tsing, The Shadow desired also to remove from New York an object that might cause the very crimes of which Yat Soon had spoken.

Well did The Shadow know that affairs in Chinatown might often produce reactions elsewhere. He was willing to accept the task of anticipating chaos that might soon be due. The Shadow knew that Yat Soon, with all his blandness, would welcome such measures.

In fact, Yat Soon began to speak again, now that his decision had been rendered. His duty as arbiter finished, he was anxious to provide The Shadow with whatever information he could. Carefully, Yat Soon studied the letter that The Shadow had shown him; then made his new comment.

“It has been told to me,” he said, “that the Fate Joss was brought to America by a man named Chichester Laudring. This man was seen in San Francisco; then in Chicago. Since that time, none have brought word concerning where he may be.

“Not long ago, another American came here to Chinatown. His name, so I have learned, is Raymond Roucard. Thrice did he make inquiry of different merchants, asking them to name those of their people who might wish to possess the Fate Joss.

“I do not know what replies Roucard received. It was told to me that the man has lived at a place called the Phoenix Hotel; but as he has not been seen since then, I have made no further inquiry. It was not my task to search for the fate Joss. Should it be, I would look for Chichester Laudring or Raymond Roucard. Perhaps for both.”

Yat Soon became silent. He folded the letter and solemnly returned it to The Shadow. The visitor arose and spoke parting words in Chinese; to which Yat Soon, in courtesy, made response in English. A panel opened; The Shadow made his departure from the arbiter’s hidden abode.

TWELVE minutes later, the chauffeur of a big limousine heard a voice speak from the interior of the car. Acknowledging the order, the chauffeur started the motor and drove away from the parking spot that he had chosen near the outskirts of Chinatown.

The chauffeur’s name was Stanley; the car was owned by a wealthy globetrotter named Lamont Cranston. The quiet tones that Stanley had heard were those of his master, ordering him to drive to the Phoenix Hotel. Stanley was puzzled, wondering why Lamont Cranston had chosen to visit such an old and out-of-the-way hostelry.

Perhaps Stanley’s perplexity would have been lessened had he known the true identity of his passenger. It was not Lamont Cranston who was in the car; but another, who frequently donned the globetrotter’s identity when the real Cranston was absent from New York.

The passenger was The Shadow. Returned from his visit to Yat Soon, he was following the arbiter’s suggestion. Choosing between Chichester Laudring and Raymond Roucard, The Shadow had decided to seek the latter, whose address was known.

The Shadow’s quest was on. Stimulated by the stir in Chinatown; crystallized by the letter from China; approved by Yat Soon, the enterprise would not cease until the goal had been reached. The Shadow was determined to regain the missing Fate Joss for the temple of Je Ho.