“You mean the thin bird that passes out the pipes?”
“That is the one I mean.”
“He looks shrewd, all right.”
“He is shrewd. He is the only man who knows how to reach this room — the only one excepting you and me.”
“That’s good,” observed Tiger Bronson. “You know this Shadow has me guessing, Loo Look. The way he moves around, he might pop in here any minute.”
* * *
The squat Chinaman laughed as though Bronson’s last statement was a huge joke. Then suddenly his face became strained and tense. For once a look of surprise appeared upon Loo Look’s expressionless features. His eyes were glassy and staring.
Tiger Bronson was amazed at this unexpected change. He turned to look in the direction of the Chinaman’s gaze. Then he, too, sat as though turned to stone.
The door of the room had opened while the two men were talking. They had not heard it. But now they saw a tall, black-clad figure at the other side of the room.
The sable form stood motionless. It loomed like a specter from the world beyond. It had come like a messenger of vengeance.