The Living Joss

CHAPTER V. THE LIVING JOSS

THE passage ended after a series of devious twists and turns. The finish was abrupt. Chon Look’s tightening grasp prevented Hugo Urvin from bumping into a solid barrier that blocked farther progress.

Something clicked. A panel rose like a curtain. Light from a room beyond was the indication of the panel.

The barrier, itself, was invisible; but the illumination rose slowly from the floor, and Chon Look conducted the American into an oddly shaped chamber which was hung with gorgeous tapestries.

The only article of furniture was a huge taboret, posted near the further wall. In front and on either side were incense burners — three in all — from which slow wreathes of smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, to dissemble in the heavy, pungent atmosphere.

Hugo Urvin noted that the legs of the taboret were open. The top of the object was heavy, and appeared almost as a throne. The young man found himself standing alone. Chon Look had retired to a corner of the room.

Looking for the Chinaman, Urvin saw first that the panel through which they had entered was now closed; then he observed that Chon Look had picked up a heavy brass gong and a hammer.

Approaching the large taboret, Chon Look motioned in that direction with the hammer. Then, as Hugo watched, the Buddhist struck the gong. The effect was most surprising. No clang occurred, although Urvin seemed to sense the reverberations of the stroke. The gong was soundless!

Before Urvin had recovered from his momentary amazement, another phenomenon took place. As in response to the noiseless stroke of wood against brass, each incense burner delivered a simultaneous puff. Sudden clouds of smoke shot upward, forming a heavy white veil around the taboret. When the smoke was gone, Hugo Urvin blinked.

A figure had appeared upon the taboret. A seated, cross-legged form clad in a gold-threaded Oriental jacket, was resting upon the seat which had been vacant before the puffs had come.

“Kwa,” announced Chon Look, with a bow.

HUGO URVIN was staring at a venomous face. It was the most evil visage that he had ever seen.

Bulging eyes, a twisted nose, thick, puckered lips, and sharp, jutting teeth; these were the features of Kwa’s countenance.

Raising a scrawny, long-nailed hand, the hideous monster gesticulated toward Chon Look. The Buddhist bowed and retired.

Hugo Urvin thought he had merely gone to replace the gong in the corner; but when the young man looked behind, he noted that Chon Look was gone. The Chinaman must have passed through the panel and let it close behind him.

Nervously, Urvin turned to face Kwa. He felt an irrepressible awe of this fiendish being. This feeling was increased when the monster uttered a crackling chuckle — the same sound that Urvin had heard across the telephone wire.

“I am Kwa,” announced the robed occupant of the odd throne. “I am the one who summoned you, Hugo Urvin. You were wise to give me your response.”

The incense burners were curling their thin smoke upward. They wreathed the demon with streaks of whiteness. The hideousness of Kwa became even more impressive; yet Hugo Urvin managed to preserve his wits.

He had been brought here for a purpose ostensibly to his advantage. Despite the gloating meanness of Kwa’s face, there was, as yet, no reason to believe in any menace.

“I summoned you,” continued Kwa, in his peculiarly accented voice, “because I need you. In return I offer what you need. Money.”

Urvin nodded.

“Money,” repeated Kwa, with emphasis. “You shall have it if you promise to do my bidding.”

Again, Urvin nodded. He was speechless. He realized, also, that he might commit himself by too definite an answer before he had learned what Kwa desired. The nod could be taken either as understanding or as willingness to obey; yet it would be possible to retract the sign.

Kwa seemed to divine the young man’s thoughts. The monster chuckled and spoke again, making his next statement quite specific.

“Your duties,” he crackled, “will be limited to those which you can easily perform. So long as you preserve the secrecy which I demand, there will be no danger from outside. So long as you do not fail to do my bidding, there will be no danger here.”

A pause; then Kwa demanded:

“Do you promise?”

“Yes,” agreed Urvin. “I promise.”

“That is good,” chuckled Kwa. “Tell me — have you ever heard of Kwa?”

“Never.”

“I am Kwa. I am the one whom my followers call the Living Joss. They look upon me as a strange being — a demigod upon earth. They are right in their belief. I am Kwa.”

The words were uttered with an impressive confidence that made Hugo Urvin shudder. The strange passage to this place; the soundless gong; the arrival of Kwa amid a puff of incense smoke; these were manifestations that could not be denied.

“The hands of Kwa” — the creature extended his long-nailed claws — “stretch everywhere. They reach out from this abode to pluck whatever Kwa may need. They can reach you, now that you belong to Kwa.

“But you need not fear, so long as you obey. You will not need to see the face of Kwa again; yet you will have new dealings with the one whom you first met — Chon Look. To you, he will give objects wrapped in paper — such as this.”

With a sweeping gesture, Kwa drew a piece of layered rice paper from his jacket and held it between his claws. He made a peeling motion; the paper separated into two sheets, which Kwa scanned as though reading an important message.

“You will come as you did tonight,” added Kwa, “whenever you have word to leave; whenever you have orders to receive. You need not speak to Chon Look. He will understand, and he will talk. And never” — the crackling voice became insidious in tone — “repeat the name of Kwa. You are not one who can safely pronounce the title of the Living Joss!”

The horrible creature waved its arms. Again, the incense burners puffed. Smoke, like a steam jet, covered the taboret. The cloud dispelled. Kwa was gone!

HUGO URVIN stood in profound amazement. While he was rooted to the spot, he heard a sound behind him. He turned swiftly to face Chon Look, who had returned. The Buddhist pointed to an open panel. Urvin followed his Chinese guide.

They reached the blackness of the shrine, after an untraceable route. Urvin felt himself spun around; the lights came on, and he was back in the room from which he had started, with no idea of where the passage had begun.

Chon Look pointed to the corner where the wishing sticks were lying. Urvin moved in that direction.

Chon Look opened a door. The Chinese girls entered, and a few minutes later a crowd of sightseers flocked in, accompanied by a new guide.

Hugo Urvin listened to Chon Look’s monotonous lecture. At a motion from the Chinaman, he joined the departing throng after the talk had been completed. The girls were by the door now, handing little packages to Chon Look. The guide was explaining that the keeper of the shrine sometimes gave gifts to his patrons. Urvin received one of the packages and placed it in his pocket.

Outside, the guide held the crowd until one of the girls appeared to collect fifty cents from each visitor.

The guide explained that this was necessary to support the shrine. Several sightseers growled their disapproval, but the collection went on, while the guide reminded them that he had mentioned that the temple trip cost extra.

Riding back to upper Broadway, Hugo Urvin still clutched the package in his pocket. He went to his apartment after he alighted from the bus, and hastily opened the parcel. Within the paper wrapping, he discovered five fifty dollar bills.

The young man pocketed the money with a laugh. This trip had proven profitable. He hoped that it was but the forerunner of many more. There was only one catch — the duty that Kwa might have imposed upon him.

The gift box in the package contained a little desk piece of the three wise monkeys. Urvin smiled as he laid it aside. He took the paper wrapping and spread it at the edge. It peeled into two pieces. One bore writing.

Urvin’s smile continued as he read the instructions. A very simple duty had been imposed upon him; one that he could perform with ease. He would take care of the matter tomorrow evening.

Pocketing two hundred and fifty dollars, Urvin felt that he was on the road to easy money. He walked around the room in pleased fashion. He happened to glance at the table where he had placed the note from Kwa; and while he was wondering whether to destroy or keep the message, the paper took care of itself.

Puff! The sheet that held the writing broke forth with a flash of flame. As Urvin stepped back from the light, he saw that the message was reduced to ashes.

Flash paper — Urvin had seen it work before. But always, he had seen it ignited. This sheet had evidently been treated with a chemical that worked automatically after one portion of the peeled paper had been pulled from the other.

Whatever the explanation might be, the fiery disappearance of the message made Urvin remember the strange manifestations within the temple of Kwa.

The young man forced a laugh when he recalled Kwa’s statement that he, Kwa, was a Living Joss.

Nevertheless, Urvin could not forget the horror of that scene in the hidden room reaches from the Buddhist shrine.

As he left the apartment to test the spending power of the first fifty-dollar bill, Urvin found the words of Kwa still ringing in his ears.

All would be well — if he obeyed. There were reasons to obey the will of Kwa. One was the fiendishness of the strange creature himself; the other was the crinkle of the fifty-dollar bills which Urvin could feel in his pocket.

There was no question in the young man’s mind. Kwa had chosen well. He had found an unscrupulous servitor to do his bidding.

Hugo Urvin intended to obey.