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The operator's voice sounded。 Moy Chen was about to speak。 But the number never left his lips。
A yellow…faced man had sprung across the room。 His bands were at Moy Chen's throat。 Another man was with him。 This Mongol caught the telephone as it fell from Moy Chen's grasp。
While one was choking Moy Chen； the other was calmly placing the receiver on the hook and putting the telephone back into the desk drawer。
The hands on Moy Chen's neck were merciless。 They were hands that worked for Ling Soo。
A quick report； flashed to the leader of the Wu…Fan； had told that Cleve Branch…the man who bore the mark of death…had entered through a secret door at the Hoang…Ho Cafe。
The minions of Ling Soo were killers all…when the occasion demanded it。
Whoever lived in that secret room must be watched。 That was the word from Ling Soo。 The choking fingers that gripped Moy Chen maintained their relentless hold。
The Chinese merchant struggled； but in vain。 His throat was rattling。 His eyes were staring。 His vain resistance became weaker。 His struggles ceased。
Then； only； did the fingers loose their hold。
Padded footsteps sounded softly as two men traced their way toward the passage that led back to the Hoang…Ho。 An inert form remained in the windowless room。
Cleve Branch； unknowing； was on his own tonight。 There would be no sleuths on hand to witness the meeting between Hugo Barnes and Ling Soo's agent in the Mukden Theater！
No word would reach the ears of the Bureau of Investigation field office in San Francisco。 No longer did the government possess an undercover man in Chinatown。
For the sprawled； pitiful form upon the floor of the windowless room would never move again。
Moy Chen was dead！
CHAPTER XVII
THE FATE OF A TRAITOR
CLEVE BRANCH was cautious as he approached the entrance of the Mukden Theater。 He passed the lobby； walking on the other side of the street； and stared at the display boards； which were the only objects in view。
The lobby was deserted； for the performance was now going on in the theater。
The fact that no one was waiting there was not surprising； for it was not quite ten o'clock； Cleve did not expect the messenger from Ling Soo until that time。 He crossed the street and shambled by the lobby； in plain view。
By this time； the men summoned by Moy Chen should be in the vicinity。 Moy Chen； always exact； would have given them a close description of Hugo Barnes。
Cleve knew he could rely on that； for the features of Hugo Barnes were themselves a creation of Moy Chen's artful hands。
Cleve stopped suddenly when he had passed the lobby。 He fancied that he had heard a hissing whistle in the dark； close by。 He listened intently； but the sound was not repeated。
Its significance puzzled Cleve。 He did not know that it was a signal used by the secret minions of the Wu…Fan…that it meant that no one should now molest the man who bore the mark of death。
Passing the lobby once again； Cleve made a close inspection from this close range。 Seeing no person； he looked along the floor and up the walls。
Perhaps that phantom shade that indicated The Shadow would be here tonight。 No； it was absent。 Cleve wondered。 Had something happened to that mysterious man； whose vigilance had twice saved Cleve from death？
Cleve pulled a watch from his pocket。 The timepiece registered exactly ten o'clock。
The appointed hour was here。 He must enter the lobby。
Cleve shuffled past the deserted box office； closed now that the evening's business was done。 He stood alone in the light； where he could easily be seen by the men whom Moy Chen had summoned。
They were keeping under cover well； Cleve decided。 That was their job。
Cleve gave no sign that might betray his interest in their presence。 He had often worked this way before。 It was his task to play his affected part。
With all the characteristics of Hugo Barnes； he went farther into the lobby；。 There； a man stepped into view from the innermost corner。
This individual was a placid…faced Chinaman dressed in American clothes。
He did not look at Cleve； in fact； he seemed totally disinterested in Cleve's presence。 But the man's arms were folded； and upon his finger was a ring that bore a dragon's head！
Even at this distance； Cleve could catch the sparkle of the tiny emerald eyes set in the gold design。 Approaching the man； Cleve bent his head a trifle and made the sign of the Wu…Fan。 The Chinaman responded with the same salute。
While Cleve stood waiting； the Chinaman turned slowly。 With arms still folded； he walked into the theater。
The action meant that Cleve was to follow。 He did so； but controlled his shuffling gait to allow time for any concealed agents to take up the trail。
The man looked back impatiently。 Cleve sensed that it would be unwise to delay too long。 He slipped his hands in his coat pockets…a pose that went with the character of Hugo Barnes…and sauntered leisurely after his guide。
THE Chinaman turned to the left； and silently strode down the blackened aisle。 Cleve was close behind him。
He suspected that the Chinaman was going back stage； and thence out into the night； for this was the pathway which Cleve had taken the night he had met Foo Chow； with Joseph Darley。
They reached the curtain at the entrance to the boxes。 There； the Chinaman stopped。 He motioned for Cleve to step through the curtain。
Cleve did so； boldly。 He knew well that a false step now might loose unexpected dangers。 He must play his part…that of a neophyte in the order of the Wu…Fan； seeking admission to a higher order。
He might be watched every step of the way； and this part of the journey might be only a blind to test him out。
Cleve was experienced in his work。 He knew how to play his part。 He obeyed the Chinaman's gesture； but his hand closed within his pocket as he gripped the butt of his short revolver。
Through the curtain； Cleve was shuffling toward the door to the stage when he felt the Chinaman's hand pluck his sleeve。
〃Sh…h！〃 warned the guide。
The man opened the curtain of the nearest box。 He gripped Cleve's arm firmly and guided him forward。
Cleve was momentarily astonished to find his foot poised over empty space； where there should have been a solid floor。 He was advancing toward the seats by the rail of the box； but he was moving downward； and his guide was following him！
Staring upward； Cleve caught a last vague glimpse of the dome of the theater。 Then； almost before he realized it； his head was below the level of the floor！
There was a slight noise above。 Cleve kept boldly on； and his foot struck the level。 The passage was broad here。 The Chinaman was beside him。 The guide pressed against a barrier ahead； a door opened into a dim passageway。
They were nearing the meeting place…and it was here； beneath the pit of the theater！
A recollection came to Cleve。 He recalled that night when he had stood in the box above； how he had sensed a hidden presence。
He had been at the entrance to the inner shrine of the Wu…Fan…almost at the top step of the concealed stairway…and