Darley said no more. Ling Soo understood. He asked a single question, although it was unnecessary.
“You have the paper?”
“Yes,” said Darley. “I shall show it to each one. To each shall go his own allotment. You need not worry, Ling Soo. Your work is here. Instead of being in your secluded apartment, you can perform the task assigned to Foy.”
With that, Darley was gone. Ling Soo was alone, blinking stolidly at the form of the man who looked like Foy. A hateful look came into Ling Soo’s eyes. He approached the hanging form, and from a hidden pocket in the front of the prisoner’s black robe, Ling Soo whisked forth a gleaming knife.
Cackling, Ling Soo placed the blade beneath his own robe. The knife of Foy — The Slayer’s only weapon! The knife that had failed again tonight!
Foy was a traitor. That was why he had failed. Tonight, he was to die!
Explanations had been unnecessary. Darley had accepted Ling Soo’s word of Foy’s perfidy. From the moment that Ling Soo had glimpsed the fleeing form of Cleve Branch, the sinister Chinaman had known that Foy was a traitor.
He had noted Cleve’s attire. He had known that only Foy could have pointed the way to escape. Sneaking through the underground passageway, Ling Soo had reached the meeting room, where he had found the still body of Foo Chow, the witness.
Ling Soo had played his cards craftily. Knowing that Foy would be at the Chinese ship, he had hurried to the junk and had done his part there. That secret trap — an artful device that Ling Soo had seen used before.
Yet, despite the fact that Ling Soo was a master of craftiness, despite the fact that he knew Foy was a traitor, he did not understand that this hanging prisoner was not the real Foy!