The Shadow Laughs

CHAPTER XXV TRAP FOR THE SHADOW

Spotter had believed that there were only three entrances to Loo Look’s underground den. He knew that three passages merged in front of the door of the innermost room. He had used all three entrances on different occasions. Each was guarded by two strong Chinese attendants.

But there was a fourth entrance to the place — and two men alone knew of its existence. One was Loo Look; the other was Tiger Bronson.

The secret entrance came from a house across the street. When either Loo Look or Tiger Bronson wished to enter the opium den, they used the secret way. The house across the street was deserted. The two men who used it each had a key to the side door.

When one of them entered the house, he went to the cellar and found an opening which led to the den where Spotter now lay. The passage terminated in an unused bunk. From this, Loo Look or Tiger Bronson would emerge or disappear.

The Chinese guard knew that there was some secret in that bunk; for both Loo Look and Tiger Bronson entered it and left it; yet neither of them used opium.

But the guard never investigated. Typically Oriental, he showed no curiosity in those matters of which he was expected to know nothing.

Loo Look was usually in the opium den. Tiger Bronson seldom appeared there. But the guard knew that he must not be too curious about either of the two.

The Shadow had come through the secret entrance from the house across the street. He had emerged from the special bunk when Spotter had first seen him.

How The Shadow knew of that secret passage was a mystery. Evidently he did not know the way to Loo Look’s lair; for he had remained in hiding until the Chinese guard had unconsciously betrayed it.

Now The Shadow was beyond the inner barrier. He was moving silently and cautiously in the dark of a narrow passage. He came to a door, and his hand gripped the knob.

Silently the door opened inward until just a crack was gained. The tall form of The Shadow blotted out the light that came through the thin opening.

Two men were seated in a small, luxuriously furnished room. One was Loo Look. The other Tiger Bronson.

They had disregarded the Oriental splendor of their surroundings, so deeply were they engaged in earnest conversation.

The big, grim-faced politician was a striking contrast to the proprietor of the opium den. Loo Look was a fat, squatty Chinaman, with pudgy face and puffy cheeks. He was clad in a Chinese robe, woven with threads of gold.

“Spotter was here last night,” observed Loo Look. He peered at Tiger Bronson with eyes that seemed like round spots of ebony. “But no other came. I did not see this one you call The Shadow.”

“He was at my house,” replied Tiger Bronson, grimly. “A mob tried to get him; but he escaped. He is dangerous, Loo Look.”

“He must be.”

“He cannot be attacked. He must be lured.”

“We can do that here.”

“Yes.” Tiger Bronson’s voice carried a tone of doubt. “The only thing is this. He may be too wise to come.”

Loo Look laughed.

“You say that he is fearless,” said the Chinaman. “If you speak truly, he will come.”

“That’s what I’m counting on, Loo Look.”

“There is nothing here to warn him,” said the Celestial. “I am too clever for that, Tiger. There are three entrances through which he may come.

“My guards are posted. They have been warned merely to deal quickly with any stranger. Perhaps others may fall into the trap. What of it?”

“It’s all right if you can get The Shadow.”

“The outer guard,” explained Loo Look, “will let any man enter. But if he is suspicious, he leans against a spot on the wall of the passage. That is a signal to the second guard behind the door. The instant that the stranger steps upon the threshold, the trap is released. Away he goes.”

“Good.”

“So The Shadow can never reach the inner den. I shall be notified within a few minutes after he falls into my snare.”

“Only one thing,” Tiger Bronson’s voice was serious. “What about that passage you and I use, Loo Look?”

The squat Chinaman laughed.

“I wish that he would enter there,” he said.

“Why? There are no guards to stop him,” interposed Tiger Bronson. “He would reach the hop joint if he came that way.”

“You think so?” Loo Look’s voice was sinister. “Listen, Tiger. You never come to this place except when I am here, do you?”

“No. I always send word when I am coming.”

“I told you once that if your key failed to work in the door of the house across the street, you would have to go away and come later.”

“Correct. I never bothered to ask you why.”

“That door will only operate when I arrange it for you to enter. It is connected here.” He pointed to a framework on the wall.

“When you come through the passage,” he continued, “everything is arranged for your safety. I am expecting you. But the moment that you arrive here, I change the plans.

“The passage is filled with traps. Even The Shadow could not escape them.”

“Suppose he followed after me.”

Loo Look laughed. He pointed to a row of lights.

“Those showed me just where you were,” he said. “After you had passed a certain spot, I let a steel sheet slide down.

“If The Shadow came behind you, he must still be on the other side. But he is not there. Another light would have indicated his presence.”

“Hm-m-m,” said Tiger Bronson. “You’ve got it all fixed like a block-signal system on a railway.”

“Exactly. Only more elaborate.”

Tiger Bronson stared in admiration at this ingenious Chinaman, who talked perfect English, and whose schemes left no room for chance.

“The way is clear now,” remarked Loo Look. “Let The Shadow enter if he wishes. He will step upon hidden floor plates. He will be trapped between steel sheets. He will never escape.”

“We should have tipped him off to the secret passage,” suggested Bronson.

“No,” replied Loo Look. “I do not want any one to know of its existence, other than ourselves. I spent too much in its preparation.

“Let The Shadow come as others do — through the passages where the guards await. They will attend to him.”

“Suppose he gets through them—”

Loo Look shook his head.

“They are ready for him,” he replied.

“He may come in disguise,” objected Tiger Bronson. “He is clever in that method.”

“The man in the inner room will know that the disguise is false. No one can deceive Woo Ting.”

“You mean the thin bird that passes out the pipes?”

“That is the one I mean.”

“He looks shrewd, all right.”

“He is shrewd. He is the only man who knows how to reach this room — the only one excepting you and me.”

“That’s good,” observed Tiger Bronson. “You know this Shadow has me guessing, Loo Look. The way he moves around, he might pop in here any minute.”

The squat Chinaman laughed as though Bronson’s last statement was a huge joke. Then suddenly his face became strained and tense. For once a look of surprise appeared upon Loo Look’s expressionless features. His eyes were glassy and staring.

Tiger Bronson was amazed at this unexpected change. He turned to look in the direction of the Chinaman’s gaze. Then he, too, sat as though turned to stone.

The door of the room had opened while the two men were talking. They had not heard it. But now they saw a tall, black-clad figure at the other side of the room.

The sable form stood motionless. It loomed like a specter from the world beyond. It had come like a messenger of vengeance.