Its significance puzzled Cleve. He did not know that it was a signal used by the secret minions of the Wu-Fan — that it meant that no one should now molest the man who bore the mark of death.
Passing the lobby once again, Cleve made a close inspection from this close range. Seeing no person, he looked along the floor and up the walls.
Perhaps that phantom shade that indicated The Shadow would be here tonight. No, it was absent. Cleve wondered. Had something happened to that mysterious man, whose vigilance had twice saved Cleve from death?
Cleve pulled a watch from his pocket. The timepiece registered exactly ten o’clock.
The appointed hour was here. He must enter the lobby.
Cleve shuffled past the deserted box office, closed now that the evening’s business was done. He stood alone in the light, where he could easily be seen by the men whom Moy Chen had summoned.
They were keeping under cover well, Cleve decided. That was their job. Cleve gave no sign that might betray his interest in their presence. He had often worked this way before. It was his task to play his affected part.
With all the characteristics of Hugo Barnes, he went farther into the lobby, There, a man stepped into view from the innermost corner.
This individual was a placid-faced Chinaman dressed in American clothes. He did not look at Cleve; in fact, he seemed totally disinterested in Cleve’s presence. But the man’s arms were folded, and upon his finger was a ring that bore a dragon’s head!
Even at this distance, Cleve could catch the sparkle of the tiny emerald eyes set in the gold design. Approaching the man, Cleve bent his head a trifle and made the sign of the Wu-Fan. The Chinaman responded with the same salute.