Darley gasped. He knew that The Shadow had been able to learn much, in the disguise of Foy — and, unquestionably, this amazing man had divined the rest. Yet Darley was sullen and resentful.
Why should he allow himself to be overcome by one lone man — no matter who that man might claim to be?
“A clever scheme,” said The Shadow slowly. “The Wu-Fan was a blind. Small wonder you tried to make it appear an innocent organization. The Civilian Committee was a blind — a plan whereby you could operate as a privileged person, without any danger from the regular authorities.
“These trips of the Sepia between San Pedro and San Francisco. You, Joseph Darley, aboard a yacht engaged in a coastwise cruise!
“No wonder the revenue agents did not search for hidden compartments in the lockers and closets of this yacht. How could they suspect opium on a ship that had not been abroad?”
“All empty talk,” cried Darley, in sudden rage. “You cannot prove a word. How can you link me with the Wu-Fan?”
“Through Green Eyes,” declared The Shadow quietly.
“Green Eyes,” laughed Darley. “Where will you find Green Eyes?”
“He stands before me,” said The Shadow, looking squarely at the mild face of Joseph Darley. “Green Eyes — the slayer of Stephen Laird. The man who took vengeance in his own hands. The American who feared betrayal because Green Eyes knew too much. Green Eyes — the master mind more scheming than Ling Soo, is—”
The Shadow paused.