Garry found himself on the little landing in the labyrinth of passages that surrounded Wing Toy’s sanctum.
“Go on,” said Looey Look. “Pull the knob. The door will open.”
Garry obeyed. He reached Wing Toy’s room, closed the door behind him, and bestowed himself in the closet.
Garry was no schemer, yet he understood Wing Toy’s cleverness. The door to the room was tricky; so was the panel on the opposite wall, although now that Garry knew of it, he could almost see its edges from the peephole.
These tricks were not too apparent; nor were they too easy to discover.
Garry saw the door of the room tremble. He held his hand against the switch. The door opened.
Garry had expected to see a black-clad form come into the dim light. Instead, it was a Chinaman who entered.
Garry recognized the man as the Mongolian guard, not by the face, which Garry had not noticed closely, but by the man’s posture.
The big Chinaman stood in the center of the room and looked about him. Garry wondered what he was doing here. The man was disobeying orders. Wing Toy had told him to leave — at least, so Wing Toy had said.
The Chinaman was scrutinizing every part of the room. Garry could see his eyes gleam. The gangster sensed danger from this man.