Tiger Bronson was shaking; but Loo Look had regained his calm when The Shadow stepped back. The cunning Chinese was expecting something to happen. A trace of eagerness appeared upon his face.
* * *
Then it came. On both sides of the room, panels burst inward, and two groups of rescuing Chinese precipitated themselves into the room.
They had come in response to Loo Look’s secret signal. Knives flashed in their hands as they hurled themselves at the figure of The Shadow.
But at the instant of the attack, the man in the black cloak had stooped toward the floor. With amazing skill and speed he slipped backward as he flung his cloak from above his head.
Loo Look, rising, saw him — a thin dark-clad figure with a black silk mask — as he slipped through the opening of the door and disappeared in the darkness of the passage beyond.
The Shadow had been too quick for his attackers. They had failed to cut off his retreat.
Dashing forward, Loo Look pulled the door open, and his men followed his pointing finger. They rushed into the passage, one after another, and plunged in mad pursuit.
Tiger Bronson rose unsteadily as he saw the grin on Loo Look’s face. The Chinaman went to a taboret, lifted the top, and produced a flashlight.
“Come,” he said to Tiger Bronson. “He cannot escape them. Only Woo Ting can open that panel — when he hears the signal. He will not open it now. He received the warning sign which I sent.”