What shadow could have been seen from the bunk? How could it have escaped his watchful eyes? Such were the Chinaman’s thoughts.
Yet the urgency of Spotter’s request carried an impression. He had said to tell Loo Look.
It was not the guard’s duty to carry messages to his master from the frenzied minds that occupied the bunks. They all had strange thoughts, these fellows who smoked pipes. Spotter, however, had spoken the name of Loo Look, and Spotter had not been in the bunk very long. Perhaps this was important.
The wiry Chinese moved along the center of the room until he reached the paneled wall beside the door. Here he raised his hand and pressed a molding. But he did not perform this action until he had cast a watchful eye down the center corridor. Spotter was no longer watching. The little gangster had dropped exhausted in his bunk.
The panel slid upward into the wall, revealing the entrance of a narrow passage. The guard held the panel with his hand, as he started to step through. Evidently it dropped automatically. This was the way to Loo Look’s private sanctum.
But the Chinaman changed his mind with suddenness. He stepped back into the room and released the panel. It slid downward to its former position. The man had decided to investigate Spotter’s claim before going to Loo Look.
Back he came to the bunk where Spotter lay. He spread the curtains slightly and shook the little gangster. Spotter stared with wild eyes.
“Which bunkee you say Shadow in?”
As the Celestial spoke, a black form emerged from the bunk at the end of the room. It moved directly along the center of the room. It was soundless as it passed the guard, who was stooping over Spotter.
The Chinaman did not detect the presence of this phantom shape. Nor did Spotter see it. The guard’s body was in front of his eyes.