GREEN EYES MEETS THE SHADOW
THE trim yacht Sepia was anchored in the bay, close to the Oakland side. A man was standing by the window of a lighted cabin.
It was Joseph Darley. He had come here after he had left the Pung-Shoon.
Darley was smiling as he looked across the bay and saw the miniature blaze that indicated the burning Pung-Shoon. Let the old junk go up in smoke, he thought. So much the better.
The burning might have been an accident, through excitement of the crew; or it might have been by new design of Ling Soo, the crafty Chinaman.
That did not matter. The junk was burning. All police boats, all other craft, would be at the side of the flaming ship, upon which the fire had become a holocaust. Here, in the silence of the bay, the work would soon be over.
The Sepia was a seaworthy craft; but its crew was small. They were trusted men, who obeyed Darley’s commands as implicitly as the followers of Ling Soo obeyed the leader of the Wu-Fan. Darley could rely on them tonight.
He glanced at his watch. In ten minutes, the others would be here. Darley drew the list with the Chinese characters from his pocket. This would be useful, now — in case of any disagreement.
Darley suddenly received the impression that someone was in the cabin, close beside him. He turned quickly. He found himself staring into the face of Foy!
Darley was amazed. He had believed Foy to be dead, in the torture chamber of the Pung-Shoon. But here was Foy, now — and in his hand gleamed a revolver, its muzzle pointed toward Darley’s body!
Instinctively, Darley looked at Foy’s eyes. They were wide open — glaring, as Darley had never seen them before.
Small wonder that Darley quailed. He was staring into the eyes of The Shadow!
Now, Foy was speaking — not in singsong Chinese — but in English! His firm, cold tones were scarcely more than a weird whisper, but the sound made Darley shudder.
“Joseph Darley” — the voice carried an accusation — “I have come to settle scores with you!”
“Scores for what?” challenged Darley.
“For your misdeeds,” declared The Shadow. “You, pretended man of influence, are the worst of all the plotters! The one who shared your wickedness — Ling Soo — has met his fate. Prepare for yours!”
“Ling Soo!”
“Ling Soo has perished in the flames of the Pung-Shoon.”
DARLEY was too astounded to reply. He stood, helpless, beside the cabin window, wondering at the strange transformation that had come over Foy. For, the crouching man was growing tall. His shadow lay across the floor, and seemed to hover over Darley like a phantom of death.
“You are wondering about Foy,” said The Shadow, in a mocking voice. “I am not Foy. I am The Shadow.”
Darley made no reply.
“Perhaps you have never heard of The Shadow,” resumed the sardonic voice. “Little wonder — for although The Shadow may be everywhere, The Shadow is seldom seen.
“It was I who rescued Cleve Branch from that den, the Sun Kew, where he went as Hugo Barnes. It was I who saved him from the knife of Foy, in your apartment.
“I found it necessary to kill Foy. I took his body with me. Some day it may be found. But I thought it best that Foy should seem to live — so I took his place.
“I learned your fiendish schemes while I lived there in the abode of Ling Soo. I attended the meetings of the inner group. I heard Green Eyes deliver his verdict of death to Cleve Branch. I saved the doomed man from that death.
“You cannot strive against me longer, Joseph Darley! I have learned every step in your plotting. This yacht is yours. Its pretended owner is a blind. On the way from San Pedro, you met the Pung-Shoon, and transferred its secret cargo to this vessel.
“While the Pung-Shoon burns, you are awaiting the Wu-Fan men who are coming to unload your million-dollar cargo. That list in your hand tells how the packages shall be distributed.”
Darley gasped. He knew that The Shadow had been able to learn much, in the disguise of Foy — and, unquestionably, this amazing man had divined the rest. Yet Darley was sullen and resentful.
Why should he allow himself to be overcome by one lone man — no matter who that man might claim to be?
“A clever scheme,” said The Shadow slowly. “The Wu-Fan was a blind. Small wonder you tried to make it appear an innocent organization. The Civilian Committee was a blind — a plan whereby you could operate as a privileged person, without any danger from the regular authorities.
“These trips of the Sepia between San Pedro and San Francisco. You, Joseph Darley, aboard a yacht engaged in a coastwise cruise!
“No wonder the revenue agents did not search for hidden compartments in the lockers and closets of this yacht. How could they suspect opium on a ship that had not been abroad?”
“All empty talk,” cried Darley, in sudden rage. “You cannot prove a word. How can you link me with the Wu-Fan?”
“Through Green Eyes,” declared The Shadow quietly.
“Green Eyes,” laughed Darley. “Where will you find Green Eyes?”
“He stands before me,” said The Shadow, looking squarely at the mild face of Joseph Darley. “Green Eyes — the slayer of Stephen Laird. The man who took vengeance in his own hands. The American who feared betrayal because Green Eyes knew too much. Green Eyes — the master mind more scheming than Ling Soo, is—”
The Shadow paused.
“Who?” demanded Darley.
“—Joseph Darley,” declared The Shadow.
“Prove it!” came Darley’s challenge.
“I can prove it,” said The Shadow, “because I know the secret of Green Eyes!”
AS Darley stared, the man who looked like Foy closed his eyelids. Yet the eyes still seemed to be open! They were gazing, with livid, flashing green, directly at Joseph Darley!
The green eyes vanished. In their place were the eyes of The Shadow. Stern, unyielding eyes — more powerful than those weird flashing optics of green!
“I know your simple secret,” said The Shadow. “I learned it the first time I saw you as Green Eyes.
“Not your eyes, Darley, but your eyelids, sent those sparkles. Two flat, green stones, attached to your eyelids. They caused that sinister sparkle that has deceived your companions.
“Your green eyes were amazing, Darley, when you looked at your followers. They did not know that your lids were closed, not open, when that strange gaze made them quail.”
As if to emphasize his statement, The Shadow closed his eyelids. Again, that amazing flash of insidious green. But to Darley, that glow meant opportunity — not menace.
The Shadow’s eyes were closed! This was Darley’s chance!
Like a flash, the committeeman whipped out an automatic, and aimed it squarely between those glimmering eyes. But his ruse failed.
The Shadow had given Darley the opportunity, so he knew what to expect. The Shadow’s own fingers pressed the trigger of Ling Soo’s revolver.
The green eyes still shone from The Shadow’s lids. Then they disappeared. The Shadow viewed the crumpled form of Joseph Darley.
Shooting with sure aim, knowing that Darley had not moved from the cover of that upraised gun, The Shadow had felled Green Eyes.
A startled man was coming to the cabin. One of the crew had heard the shot. He saw Darley’s form, and hurried toward it. The Shadow fell upon him as he passed. The man lay helpless upon the floor.
Stepping to the deck, The Shadow listened. He could hear a faint sound from the water. He went back into the cabin. Garbing himself in coat and hat that lay upon the chair, The Shadow stepped noiselessly upon the deck.
The other members of the crew were forward. They were standing on the deck, with long wooden boxes at their feet.
The precious load of opium had been packed. Two small boats were approaching.
By the actions of the man who approached them in the dark, the crew of the Sepia thought that he was Darley. For as the coat-clad figure spoke in a low tone, the voice was Darley’s voice.
The boats were at the side. Men were rising from them. Looking upward through the gloom, they saw two green eyes staring down at them.
The members of the Wu-Fan clambered over the side. They crowded about Darley, asking in low voices that they might see the list.
They seemed awed and amazed to find Green Eyes here. But their surprise was to be greater. For as they walked toward the boxes that the coat-clad figure indicated, a peal of gibing laughter burst through the night.
It was the laugh of The Shadow!
Standing with Ling Soo’s revolver in his left hand, and Joseph Darley’s automatic in his right, The Shadow was backed against the pilot house, covering the crew and the members of the Wu-Fan.
He fired one shot in the air. This was not muffled, like the report in the closed cabin. It could be heard far — across the waters of the bay. It was a signal to all who might hear that something was amiss upon the yacht Sepia.
NO green eyes were sparkling now, from beneath the hat which The Shadow wore. The members of the Wu-Fan realized they were tricked. The crew of the yacht went wild with fury. With one accord, a dozen men precipitated themselves upon this lone figure that had come upon them.
Revolvers and knives were coming into view, but not a single weapon could avail. Quick, staccato shots rang out, but all came from The Shadow’s guns. Men were falling — some clutching at The Shadow’s feet. Others were groveling by the rail.
Only two escaped. At the rear of the attacking horde, these men, both members of the Wu-Fan, leaped to the rail and gained the motor boat that had brought them there. Hastily they set the motor in action. They were chugging away to safety.
But then The Shadow acted. His shots were used; but with a gun borrowed, unasked, from a victim, he stood by the rail and blazed into the night.
One man gasped and slumped to the bottom of the boat. The second succumbed to another bullet. Chugging onward, the motor boat continued, swerving crazily, with no hand at its wheel.
The shots had aroused cries from other boats anchored in the distance. Lights were gleaming. The long rays of searchlights were being focused on the Sepia.
Dimly, from the distance, these rays revealed the figures sprawled upon the deck. But they did not show the form of The Shadow.
The master of the night had returned to the night. A little motor boat was picking its elusive way back across the bay toward San Francisco.
That boat was guided by the hand of The Shadow!