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Show lijliprYUAM Wmf HEE SEE flLfiHl By SAX ROHMER W,N.l. SERVICE SYNOPSIS . trrney. young American llv-"f llv-"f iiui good-by to his M ed on boarf the Wallaroo. '!,eu?a tro'o Is conveying 2.000.-Australia- On his way M karney meets Inspector Daw-Jt Daw-Jt . t of Scotland Yard, very It in ioT. with Eileen. Haig 1. ofopiun CHAPTER I Continued 2 To glad you. asked tint," said n,ie "It shows you are lnterest-V lnterest-V Tlle reason Is this: the China WpS touching at Australian ports , , bi of an overhauling. Stuff tomlD from England goes through without difficulty. Those cases are (pecified to contain Staffordshire pottery, now!" -Great Scott 1" said Kearney. That's pretty clever." 1 advised a pal of mine Freeman, Free-man, of the customs at Sydney to io what we couldn't do. What hap pened? The stuff was taken off at the last moment I got news at the yd two hours ago." "But surely yon can do something jowl" 1 can I" Halg returned. He grinned again and emptied his tankard. "Open the cases?" "Oh, no! 'Mrs. Moggrldge,' who uakes our snappy laws, would never iHow such a thing I" "Then what?' This: If I can get evidence tonightevidence to-nightevidence I know to be there -Hi search the premises to which the 'pottery' has been moved. Then I can open the cases I" "Didn't you say the name was En??" Hnlg nodded. "Messrs. King's warehouse ad-Joins ad-Joins the establishment of Jo Lung, otherwise 'Shanghai Jo.' Jo Lung lithe lad I'm after." Who Is Jo Lung?" "1 thought,", said Halg, sorrowfully sorrow-fully regarding the speaker, "you were supposed to be an authority oi Chinatown?" Kearney smiled. T?e written It up for my paper," pa-per," he confessed. (He was London Lon-don correspondent of the New York Universe.) "But I seem to have overlooked Jo LnngI" "Don't wonder!" Halg admitted. 'Be's not an easy man to know. Apart from which, he isn't the Prime mover. The Big Chief Is the m who supervised the removal of lese cases from the Wallaroo to-alght." to-alght." 'bti who is the Big Chief?" "is I'm not sure, I won't an-Halg an-Halg replied. "Let's stick to facts. . . . Ttie two firemen, supporting each her lovingly, at this moment reeled t of the bar. As they disappeared. , door repened to admit a cus-who cus-who appeared to belong to me trade as the firemen. A W r ng man evldentlyi but gober to J6 barmaD havlnS sed had retired: J;,KN,rwlch?" 8ald Halg, ad-tie ad-tie new arrival, C7 8tarted and 8tare1 from uw face; then: Ctb,ckfaEiDg's yara- C thHa'8 nodded' a he ; MP Wr'an.Ch,y CltlZeD- : su ?am- he dlreeted J'1- AH clear." ; J up promptly; ! o1i;'nfnetho'is. he said. "The ! a - tV681 wlth an orIental tte card , hen' t0 W'ckham: "Got ! Tom Bernardson?" ! eal"' D,"e 'clock. Inspector, ! ZV here- But I'm ! N w f Thav l take your i sent f! Lung The ! Th . 016 JUSt as 1 ! linea , y.Te the missing street case. ! V0,eP" back at once." i The o Dawson Ha8- "Also : i to WC ,?eet case 18 a ' this. ,! 1 know to under-! under-! ScCle111 Can you talk ; skPt g0 nman, wickham?" pi Dot,sIrI Lancashire sees iaco0untHy0n NIch'" t, Anting on you, Inspec- - "B-ip ' V Ml Dawson Halg; ;i '!?"ylu"reMat Kea" 'er- rlairo t osettlng me! I ; . but'" ta k 'lko a Chicago bai,ie L ,Ve' 1 am t0H ) 's hes .ffl,er'Can accent." , ,mco jou Jr ? he' Dy bump- ' ,!t b'es ll,nlg ,t has een a l' t V'nam-" he 6 la"er-y0U'ii come back in the car with me, Norwich, carry on but with Mr. Kearney! here, in my place. "And now, Kearney, listen: Here's priceless 'copy' for you though I don't know how you're going to get back! " "It doesn't matter, I'll find a way." "You'll have to gamble on a stray tnxl. But this Is what I want you to do. . . ." CHAPTER A HEAVY wooden gate, set In a ri high, old brick wall, did not look very promising. Partially defaced de-faced by time and weather, the name "J. Lung" might still with dlf-culty dlf-culty be rend thereupon. Just beside be-side the Inscription was an electric bell push, and to this Detective Sergeant Norwich applied his finger. "Don't forget the American accent, ac-cent, sir," he whispered. "I can't I" Kearney replied. "So they tell me here." Suddenly a small door, set In one wing of the greater one, opened quite silently inwards. The light of an electric lamp of that pattern carried by the police shone Into their faces. Behind the lamp, Indistinguishable In-distinguishable in the darkness, appeared ap-peared a stooping figure, shadowly. "What you want, please?" asked a soft, monotonous voice. Peering hard, Matt Kearney made out that the speaker wore a dark blue turban. The doorkeeper was not, as one might have anticipated, a Chinaman, but an Arab bowwab. "Jilt. Jo Lung," Norwich replied distinctly. "I have brought him a customer from the United States." The bowwab turned light upon the speaker's face, and : "I don't see you here before," he commented. "Maybe not," Norwich returned. "But I come from Mr. Bernardson. Look at this." He held out a card. Bony brown fingers grasped It and placed It close before the light of the lantern lan-tern ; then : "All right," sail the guardian of the gateway. "Please come In." The two stepped Into a little courtyard. The Arab proved to be a gaunt man with a lined and pockmarked pock-marked face, sunken eyes and an ominous expression. They crossed to a corner of the yard, mounted four stone steps, and entered a dimly lighted passage, having a window with an Iron grating grat-ing overlooking the courtyard. The place was stuffy and fullof cigarette ciga-rette smoke. It was evidently the sanctum of the Arab night porter. "Please wait," said the bowwab, leaving them together In the dimly lighted room. Shuffling footsteps died away in some dark place be-yond; be-yond; and Kearney was about to speak when Norwich shook his head urgently. Standing there In an oppressive hush, a long way off In the building build-ing Kearney heard a sound. Although at first he failed to identify iden-tify It, Immediately he knew that It was horrible. It was a very high sound, between a piping and a squeal; higher than the note of a rat It was, paradoxically, so shrill as to be nearly Inaudible. . . . Then, suddenly, he knew of what It reminded him . . the amplified squeak of a bat! It was chilling; terrifying; In some way unclean. He exchanged a rapid glance with Norwich ; and Norwich stood like a man petrified. "For God's sake! What was It?" Kearney whispered. "I can't imagine, sir. . . . Ssh! Some one coming 1" "It was like . . . laughter. . . ." The emporium of Jo Lung occupied occu-pied all the rooms on two floors of a rambling old building, eight or nine rooms In all, and each one literally lit-erally crammed with treasures. At times Kearney Imagined that the covered-ln ways of old Damascus lay Just around the next turning; that the Street called Straight, and not Llmehouse Causeway, adjoined this wonder-khan. On entering other rooms he was transported to the Seraglio palace, and thought that he stood In the treasury of the sultans. sul-tans. Only the manner In which these priceless items were displayed served to dissipate such Illusions. They were piled carelessly upon rough, trestle tables. A highly civilized and .veil dressed Greek did the honors. "Mr. Jo Lung is unfortunately away, he explained to Norwich. "But if I can help, I am at your service. fo doubt," turning to Kearney, who was endeavoring to hide his bewilderment, bewil-derment, "you have a definite Idea, what you are seeking?" 1 xvearney conquered his astonishment astonish-ment He endeavored to recall Dawson Hnig's Instructions. Jo Lung Tn L 16 b ESPSt "fen"-r dealer '0,e Boods-in all London ! Sur-Prise Sur-Prise visits had never yet caught him napping. This was a new move V6 Sergeant NorwI ha memorized a long list 0f stolen jew- elry-prlnclpally foreign; and their ob was to try to identify even one item in Joe's emporium, in this, Halg could act . . . and the cases of opium lay In an adjoining yard ! My friend, Mr. Bronsen, has several sev-eral commissions," said Norwich (Matt Kearney was "Mr. Bronsen" But mostly colored gems." "Yes," Kearney broke rn. "I'm commissioned by a New York client to complete a collection of sapphires." sap-phires." y "Sapphires!" The Greek raised heavy eyebrows. "I fear I am unfortunate: un-fortunate: If Mr. Jo Lung were here he might be able to help you But to the best of my knowledge we have few sapphires In stock at present They are not," he smiled slightly, "very profitable Just now. However, you shall see." They passed along a corridor went down three naked wooden steps and picked a way through what seemed to be a collection of lamps lamps of perforated brass of silver, of gold; lamps from Arabia, from China, and from Japan. Ja-pan. Detective Sergeant Norwich was all eyes. They entered a room resembling a small shop, and the Greek, stepping step-ping behind a narrow counter, pulled out a tray from beneath and opened It for the visitors' Inspection. It was as he did so that the almost al-most Insupportable silence began to bear down upon Kearney. The treas- "Don't Forget the American Accent, Sir," He Whispered. ure house of Jo Lung was the most silent place he had ever known In the heart of a city. Its silence was uncanny. ... "Unless Mr. Lung has others In . the safe," the Greek said, "these are the only colored gems In stock at present" Kearney, resting his eyes upon the jewels, suppressed an exclamation in the nick of time. . . . The tray was arranged with some artistic care, and In Its center, under un-der the harsh, unshaded lamp which the Greek had switched on, blazed a group of amazingly matched fire opals. Kearney clenched his teeth and bent lower, peering down. Here lay evidence to Justify a search of Jo Lung's premises! Be-"yond Be-"yond any possible mistake, this was the "Dakenham necklace" the famous fa-mous rope of opals which his aunt Hilda, Lady Dakenham, had taken with her upon the ill-fated voyage of the American yacht, Miss Minnesota, Min-nesota, lost with all hands In the Persian gulf, less than a year be fore ! Yet a query leaped to his brain-was brain-was it evidence? "You are admiring the opals?" The Greek's voice seemed to come from a great distance. Kearney pulled himself together. "Yes," he said, and met the unblinking unblink-ing gaze of the man's dark eyes. "If I were buying opals I should buy these." You would be wise. Bnt you know Mr. Lung's methods of business?" busi-ness?" "Yes Even if I wanted to buy, I haven't the cash I" He was cool enough now. He added: "These sapphires are Indifferent I m sorry. The Greek replaced the tray, and : "Perhaps you will honor us with a visit Mr. Bronsen, next time you visit England," be suggested. "Special "Spe-cial requirements such as yours cannot always be met at short notice no-tice " He led them to another room. "What have you here?" Norwich asked curiously-"ln these cases?" Kearney was slightly ahead when the Greek paused and looked back as Kearney observed a little memo-book memo-book bound in green leather, lying TATA a-ntion. he stooped quickly, picked it up, and slipped It in Ms pocket Here, per-nns per-nns was evidence! Tn the act of turning o rejoin ,,, -i,o was examining a sri- snKor-something-a "-prompted Kearney to glance across the shadow-haunted expanse of the big room below. It opened directly out of the lobby of the bowwab and contained miscellaneous mis-cellaneous bulky exhibits; t vast place in which only that one light was burning. Its dim reflection touched a distant landing. And on that landing a woman stood ! She was encased, mummy-like, In a long, clinging fur coat of what Kearney took to be brown ermine. Her blue-black hair wag brushed straight back from her brow; her small, chiseled features resembled a pale cameo, but her Hps were poppy pop-py red. Unfathomable eyes were represented only by straight, nearly near-ly horizontal shadows; and one singularly sin-gularly long, white, ghastly hand rested on her hip. He stared stared again . , . and the apparition was gonel Had she been watching him? Had she seen him pick up the book? Or had she any real existence at all? was she a product of his excited ex-cited Imagination? . . . In a soundproof room, well but simply furnished as an office, a man sat behind a large desk. The room was In darkness except for a shaded lamp upon this desk. Near to it. back against the wall, was a mechanism mech-anism which at first glance one would have taken for a radio set. The seated man, his bowed back to the room, was engaged In manipulating manip-ulating this apparatus; and suddenly, sudden-ly, as a result of manipulation, a voice cut Into the silence: "I hope to see you again on your next visit, Mr. Bronsen," said the voice. It was that of the Greek. "Sure thing. I'll be here." That was Kearney. Then came a creaking sound of footsteps and the slam of a door. The visitors were gone. The man at the table disconnected disconnect-ed the apparatus and swung about in his revolving chair. A soft black hat lay upon the carpet, with a fur-lined fur-lined overcoat having a deep astra khan collar. This man's skin resembled re-sembled the peel of a dried lemon ; his Jet-black hair was stretched from a receding forehead. Half closed eyes were like slits In the yellow face, and his Hps were red and beautifully formed, their redness accentuated by a small, black, bow-shaped bow-shaped mustache which arched above them. It was a smiling face, but something some-thing In It Inspired terror In the man upon whom those half-closed eyes were turned. This latter was a stalwart Chinaman, moderately well dressed In European clothes, who might, at some time, have been a sailor. He had the mask-llke, mask-llke, immobile features of his race and calling. Only by a slight movement move-ment of small, sinewy hands, did he display his discomfort Slowly, the slit-like eyes In the yellow face of the one who watched opened and the red lips smiled. Fully opened, those eyes were terrifying. ter-rifying. Some might have found It hard to define wherein their terror ter-ror lay. Except that they seemed to be super-normally bright they were In an animal fashion, fine eyes. Their dreadful quality consisted in one simple sentence: their whites were really white whereas that part of the normal human eye Is Invariably In-variably tinted. The result, being phenomenal, was horrifying. The man In the revolving chair spoke slowly, and his voice, like his eyes, were super-normal. He was a big man for a Chinese, and fleshy . . . but he spoke In a key In which Caruso sang! "What did I tell you, my friend? Your mean soul said, It 13 business.' busi-ness.' I said, It is a plot.'" "I was considering Excellency's Interests." "And this," continued the flute-Uke flute-Uke voice, "Is how you consider them. You admit a disguised police officer and a stranger, tonight tonight, to-night, above all other nights I" "I believed" T never accept excuses. Ah I" A muffled bell. "Open the door. Here Is Polo- dos." The Chinaman opened the baize-covered baize-covered door, admitting the Immac-late Immac-late Greek. As he entered: "You were wrong, Jo Lung," he said to the one who had opened for him. He turned to the man at the deck. "Excellency was right The card was certainly obtained by fraud. Of one man I can say nothing, noth-ing, but the other was a detective." "Ah!" came the reed voice. And the speaker stood op, his eyes half-closing half-closing again. "I am sure of it . . . I was listening to every word !" He pointed to the apparatus on the table. "No harm has been done, my lord," the Greek continued. "I was cautious. It is regrettable, but it was remedied." The baleful glance of those half-shut half-shut eyes was directed upon Jo Lung. 'Tonight it Is more than regrettable," re-grettable," the reed voice declared. "This is the second mistake of a disastrous dis-astrous day. The first was the shipment ship-ment of valuable goods In the Wallaroo. Wall-aroo. My Plans, my careful plans to he destroyed by fools !" "Notice of change came so late. The dim door bell rang again. Po-lodos Po-lodos opened the padded door, and a woman came in. (TO BE COTIVF.D) |