The Grove Of Doom s-37

by Maxwell Grant

  Now The Shadow’s right hand was inscribing visible thoughts upon a sheet of paper. The brain that was mapping out a direct campaign was putting its ideas into carefully formed writing. The brief phrases formed a column.

  UPPER BEECHVIEW

  Zachary Chittenden plans overheard.

  Waiting tonight. Action tomorrow night.

  Vincent watching to inform in case of emergency.

  The writing began to fade. Letter by letter, it passed from view. Affairs at Upper Beechview were in temporary abeyance.

  The hand inscribed a new column on the same sheet of paper:

  LOWER BEECHVIEW

  Quiet essential tonight. No action.

  Watchers arranged by Harvey Chittenden.

  Tomorrow night important.

  After the writing faded, The Shadow’s hand wrote two lists of comparative forces:

  Upper Beechview: Zachary; three regular retainers; three - or

  more - reserves.

  Lower Beechview: Harvey; Jessup; two men. Ware absent.

  After this consideration of opposing forces, one group numbering at least seven men, the other four, The Shadow wrote:

  THE GROVE

  Lei Chang - Koon Woon

  Those two names faded after the capitalized words had gone. The hand, with a quick motion, inscribed a huge question mark upon the paper. Then, after the interrogative had obliterated itself, the hand of The Shadow slowly wrote this statement.

  Choy Lown can tell.

  The short sentence seemed to linger longer than the previous writings. It carried a marked significance. Eyes studied the paper after the words had vanished. The light clicked out. A laugh came through the pitch-black darkness.

  There was no mockery in that sound. The laugh, was one of strange determination; a hoarsely echoed cry that signified the unknown. Only when grave danger lay ahead did The Shadow laugh like that.

  The eerie echoes clung to the unseen drapings of this mysterious room - The Shadow’s sanctum. When the last hushing sound had whispered in uncanny reply, complete silence pervaded all. The Shadow was gone.

  What strange adventure was on foot tonight? Why had The Shadow laughed so weirdly?

  Because within the next few hours, The Shadow was to undertake the impossible; to pit his wits against the strangest lair that human cunning had ever conceived.

  “Choy Lown can tell -“

  To those who knew, that brief statement would have been awe-inspiring. Choy Lown, aged recluse of Chinatown, the crafty old man whom all tong leaders feared, was one who dwelt away from all the world.

  No one had seen Choy Lown for years. He molested no one; but his philosophy of life was to live without friends. His mandates - wise decisions that were supplied when so he chose - came from a mysterious and secretive source.

  The very name of Choy Lown meant beware. This odd Oriental possessed tremendous knowledge and unfailing memory; yet he preserved both for his own purposes. It was said that Choy Lown knew every riddle of the Orient. He was regarded as a demigod by superstitious Chinese.

  None of Choy Lown’s countrymen knew where the ancient savant lived; had they learned, they would have avoided the spot with utmost care. For Choy Lown’s philosophy taught him that all intruders were lawful prey. It was known to the craftiest men of Chinatown that Choy Lown’s hidden abode was surrounded by traps that no living person could escape.

  “In the toils of Choy Lown,” was a proverb of New York’s Chinatown. It was used to indicate a situation from which there could be no possible escape.

  Tonight, The Shadow intended to visit Choy Lown. From that one man, he knew, he could gain the information that he wanted - could learn the secret that involved Lei Chang and Koon Woon.

  To visit Choy Lown meant to go uninvited. The way would be barred by relentless pitfalls. Choy Lown was the man whom none had dared defy.

  Tonight, The Shadow would defy him! While the mystery of the two Beechview mansions was dormant, The 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 Chinaman lay unconscious.

  The Shadow worked swiftly now. He examined the form of the victim, and his sharp eyes discerned that the big Chinaman was but momentarily stunned. A few minutes later, the huge guardian opened his eyes to find himself bound and gagged beside Wing Goy. The Shadow laughed softly in the gloom as he placed the prisoners apart, each one carefully obscured from view behind tapestries in different corners of the room.

  The laugh sounded again - this time with weird reverberations - as The Shadow pressed the molding beside the projecting wall. The laugh became a hollow, whispered sound, as The Shadow entered the cavity which appeared behind the sliding panel. A click occurred; and a tiny light appeared in one black-gloved hand. The Shadow was examining the little compartment that he had entered.

  The purpose of the tiny room was evident. It served as an elevator. This was indicated by a small push button on the side. The Shadow let the panel drop behind him; he now stood in a sealed prison from which exit would be easy, for the closed panel showed a small crevice at the bottom.

  By keen inference, The Shadow had divined that the placid Tai Yuan Shop might be the entrance to the domain of Choy Lown, the mystic savant of Chinatown. By causing qualms in Wing Goy’s mind, The Shadow had tricked the proprietor of the shop into revealing the spot that it was his duty to hide. Wing Goy was nothing more than the guardian of Choy Lown’s sanctum.

  The course lay upward now; but The Shadow did not press the button of the elevator. Instead, he examined the sides of the little lift, to find them smooth as glass, with no projection that would afford the slightest hold.

  The tiny flashlight pointed upward. The roof of the elevator was a sheet of metal held in place with screws. With a blackened screw driver, The Shadow carefully removed these fastenings. The top came loose in the black-gloved hands. The light revealed a tall, narrow shaft extending upward. The Shadow laid the square metal roof piece against the wall of the elevator, and pressed the button.

  THE car moved upward noiselessly, through total blackness. The Shadow’s flashlight was out. The elevator was traveling through a tight shaft, carrying The Shadow on his quest. But the black-clad passenger was not idle in the darkness. Long arms were reaching upward. Gloved hands gripped the edges of the open-roofed car.

  The elevator stopped at the top of the shaft. Simultaneously the bottom of the car dropped on a hinge. Something went clattering downward into space - the square sheet of metal that The Shadow’s hands had taken from the roof. The flashlight clicked. Its glare revealed a tall figure in black, hanging by one hand from the upper edge of the elevator. The light pointed downward. A shaft-like abyss lay below.

  The Shadow had foreseen this trap. Mechanically prepared to dispose of an unsuspecting intruder, the bottom of the car had fallen - and no living man could possibly have found a hold upon the smooth-walled sides of either elevator or shaft!

  Hanging against the side of the lift, The Shadow retained his position without effort. His free hand turned the rays of the flashlight toward the open side of the elevator. The smooth, slippery surface of the shaft revealed the narrow crevice of a sliding door.

  With flashlight extinguished, The Shadow probed the edge of the door. His hand was employing a tool of metal that clicked as it slipped into the crack. A hidden catch yielded; a door slid back of its own momentum and the tall form in black swung clear of the car, coming to rest in the dim light of a small entry.

  The Shadow made a quick inspection of the door to the elevator shaft. The operation of the car was obvious; its mechanism was set to foil all those who might come up without first warning of their approach. Had the device been set to receive a visitor, the door would have opened automatically upon the arrival of the lift.

  The Shadow closed the door to the shaft, and faced straight ahead. Before him was a curtained archway, the only exit from this place. The Shadow advanced, and his blackened
hands spread aside the draperies. The act disclosed a dark, wide passage; beyond that, another pair of curtains.

  Sweeping the light of his torch along the darkened corridor, The Shadow measured the distance; then examined all the surroundings. The way seemed open. Here, on the fourth floor of the building, must lie the sanctum of Choy Lown.

  What danger could be ahead? The elevator had been designed to drop invaders to their doom. This quiet passage looked like nothing more than a simple entrance to a room beyond. Yet The Shadow sensed a snare. He was resolved to enter the passage; before doing so, he was preparing for any emergency.

  Ready, The Shadow stepped through the curtains. They swished together behind his tall, spectral form. With light spotted low upon the floor ahead, The Shadow moved into the strange passage. Something clicked above; the man in black sprang forward; a solid wall of steel dropped behind him.

  The Shadow’s laugh echoed along the corridor. He had encountered such tricks before; he was prepared to combat them. Should return prove necessary, there were ways whereby he could, in time, force open the most formidable barrier. But still, The Shadow’s course lay ahead. Carefully, step by step; the tall invader moved along the passage; then, suddenly, The Shadow drew back.

  HE had reached a crucial spot in the advance - a widening of the passage; and his halt had been made just in time. Less than six inches ahead, the floor, set off by an invisible spring, had dropped in two hinged sections. The flashlight showed a yawning hole some twenty feet in breadth.

  A sullen, muffled thump of mechanism had begun. Turning, The Shadow threw the beams of light upon the steel barrier that had dropped behind him. That heavy wall was creeping forward, impelled by some powerful force. It had been set to force the unwary entrant to this passage into the gulf of death which now blocked the path!

  Between the barrier and the pit, The Shadow had a hopeless choice. With all his skill, he could not hope to stop that moving mass in the short time allowed. Turning, The Shadow faced the abyss and stood upon its very edge. His light revealed the opposite side of the passage.