He had been seen by Ling Soo! The fiend knew that the prisoner had escaped!
Hastening, Cleve gained the elevator and reached the passage to the street. He knew that Ling Soo’s warning was on its way. He must hurry — hurry away from Chinatown, where grim death lurked.
He reached the street and pressed through the throng. In his mad desire, Cleve forgot all else but that one thought — escape!
Away from here, he would be free to act. Within the range of the Wu-Fan, death was a constant danger.
Stolid Chinamen stepped out of the way as Cleve dashed down the street. One man, blocking his path, stood firm. The eyes that peered through yellow lids saw the mark of death upon Cleve’s forehead!
The Chinaman was a member of the Wu-Fan. He seized Cleve, and grappled with him. Cleve swung at him with his empty revolver, but missed his aim. He struggled free and stumbled forward, with his enemy in pursuit.
They were at the edge of Chinatown. Another yellow man had joined in the chase. Cleve’s legs were weakening. He staggered toward the wall and fell, his shouting enemies upon him.
Clutching claws began to beat Cleve’s head against the wall. On the verge of safety, he was facing death again. But others were coming to his aid. Three passing Americans, seeing the menace to their countryman, threw themselves upon the attackers.
Scudding like rats, the two Wu-Fan men dropped their victim and fled for shelter. They scurried into the first alleyway that they saw, but their swift pursuers caught them and laid them flat with well-placed blows.
Cleve, limp and helpless, was carried to a drug store to await the arrival of an ambulance.