“You have promised,” said Ling Soo, with a touch of sternness in his voice. “Tomorrow night, you may meet, for the first time, the members of our inner shrine.
“Be cautious in your actions until then. Await the hour of ten. Come, then, to the Mukden Theater, which lies across the street from the doorway to my home. There you will see a man with folded arms. Upon his finger a ring — such as this.”
Ling Soo displayed his left hand. Upon it was a ring, fashioned with the head of the golden dragon. Cleve noted that the eyes of the little dragon were two tiny emeralds. It brought a sudden meaning to his mind.
Green Eyes!
Could this be an inner secret of the Wu-Fan? Those were words which Stephen Laird had uttered. Green Eyes!
“Approach that man,” continued Ling Soo, apparently oblivious to the fact that his visitor was still staring at the dragon ring. “When you see him face to face, make the secret sign of the Wu-Fan.”
The squat Chinaman solemnly raised his finger to his forehead, and Cleve duplicated the action.
“That man will lead you to the meeting place,” declared Ling Soo, in a final tone. “There you will learn the secrets of the inner shrine — the highest secrets of the Wu-Fan.
“Remember” — the voice spoke more deliberately than usual — “until then, you must tell no one of your purpose. Your promise has been made. Your secrecy begins now.”
“I understand,” said Cleve.