Within that craft, a crouching man was carefully placing his fingers to his face. Two tiny spots of color glowed beneath his finger tips as they pressed beneath the eyebrows.
From the jet-black center of the tiny craft came the laugh of The Shadow!
CHAPTER XXII
GREEN EYES MEETS THE SHADOW
THE trim yacht Sepia was anchored in the bay, close to the Oakland side. A man was standing by the window of a lighted cabin.
It was Joseph Darley. He had come here after he had left the Pung-Shoon.
Darley was smiling as he looked across the bay and saw the miniature blaze that indicated the burning Pung-Shoon. Let the old junk go up in smoke, he thought. So much the better.
The burning might have been an accident, through excitement of the crew; or it might have been by new design of Ling Soo, the crafty Chinaman.
That did not matter. The junk was burning. All police boats, all other craft, would be at the side of the flaming ship, upon which the fire had become a holocaust. Here, in the silence of the bay, the work would soon be over.
The Sepia was a seaworthy craft; but its crew was small. They were trusted men, who obeyed Darley’s commands as implicitly as the followers of Ling Soo obeyed the leader of the Wu-Fan. Darley could rely on them tonight.