He glanced at his watch. In ten minutes, the others would be here. Darley drew the list with the Chinese characters from his pocket. This would be useful, now — in case of any disagreement.
Darley suddenly received the impression that someone was in the cabin, close beside him. He turned quickly. He found himself staring into the face of Foy!
Darley was amazed. He had believed Foy to be dead, in the torture chamber of the Pung-Shoon. But here was Foy, now — and in his hand gleamed a revolver, its muzzle pointed toward Darley’s body!
Instinctively, Darley looked at Foy’s eyes. They were wide open — glaring, as Darley had never seen them before.
Small wonder that Darley quailed. He was staring into the eyes of The Shadow!
Now, Foy was speaking — not in singsong Chinese — but in English! His firm, cold tones were scarcely more than a weird whisper, but the sound made Darley shudder.
“Joseph Darley” — the voice carried an accusation — “I have come to settle scores with you!”
“Scores for what?” challenged Darley.
“For your misdeeds,” declared The Shadow. “You, pretended man of influence, are the worst of all the plotters! The one who shared your wickedness — Ling Soo — has met his fate. Prepare for yours!”
“Ling Soo!”