There was no definite answer—only the sound of a muttered colloquy; and suddenly the brown man returned and spoke to the old woman in a voice so low that his words were inaudible to the two attentive listeners in the distant corner.
"Ah!" whispered Max—"what now?"
"Shall we rush the curtain!" said Stuart.
"No!" Max grasped his arm—"wait! wait! See! he is going out. He has perhaps forgotten something. A second fish in the net."
The Oriental went up the steps into the shop. The old woman closed and barred the door, then opened the matting curtain and disappeared within.
"I was right," said Max.
But for once in his career he was wrong.
She was out again almost immediately and bending over a bunk close to the left of the masked opening. The occupant concealed in its shadow did not rise and follow her, however. She seemed to be speaking to him. Stuart and Max watched intently.
The head of Ah-Fang-Fu reappeared in the doorway behind them.
"Now is our time!" whispered Max tensely. "As I rush for the curtains, you run to the shop door and get it unbolted, whistling for Dunbar——"