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〃I shall arrange that；〃 said Moy Chen。
〃I have been working alone；〃 said Cleve； 〃with this very purpose in mind。
The other men will not be linked with Hugo Barnes。 They will have no difficulty in trailing me。〃
Cleve slipped into the suit he wore when acting the part of Barnes。 He drew his stub…nosed revolver from his pocket and examined the loaded chambers。
〃If I encounter trouble；〃 he said grimly； 〃I'll give those fellows something to think about。 A shot will be the signal for the men who are trailing me。 That's understood？〃
〃Yes；〃 said Moy Chen。
Cleve had spoken in his own voice。 Now he dropped into the character of Hugo Barnes。
Acpanied by Moy Chen； he made his way to the shop。 He talked with the merchant； as they stood by the door。 Then Cleve was on his way； confident that no one could penetrate his disguise。
MOY CHEN watched him from the door。 Keen though the Chinaman's vision was； he did not see the lurking form that spotted Hugo Barnes as the departing man went by an alley。
Had Moy Chen continued to watch； he might have seen a sneaking Celestial pick up the trail。 For the mark on the forehead of Cleve Branch was now visible on Hugo Barnes； whenever he walked by a lighted spot along the street。
Moy Chen； however； did not wait。 He had remembered Cleve's last admonition。 In approximately a half hour； Hugo Barnes would be at the entrance to the Mukden Theater。 Others must be there； too。
Upstairs ambled Moy Chen。 His thoughts； somehow； reverted to that blood…red spot on the forehead of Cleve Branch。
As he considered it now； Moy Chen felt sure that spot meant danger。 For though； because of his undercover work； Moy Chen had avoided close contact with the Wu…Fan； the pretended merchant at least knew the sinister ways of Chinatown。
People did not appear adorned with crimson spots unless there was a reason。 That was Moy Chen's sound conclusion。
Reaching his windowless room； Moy Chen went to the desk and unlocked a drawer。 From it； he produced a small telephone。 It was connected with a special； outside wire。
By this phone； Moy Chen municated with Bureau of Investigation agents。
One or more could always be reached； at a special address in San Francisco。
Time and again； the undercover man had brought government agents； seemingly from nowhere； to spoil the well…laid plans of the Chinese tongs。
For the first time； now； Moy Chen was using his informative weapon against the Wu…Fan。 Tong leaders had never learned this secret。 Ling Soo； whom Moy Chen had never thwarted； could not possibly know it。
So thought Moy Chen。 But Moy Chen did not know the meaning of that mark on the forehead of Cleve Branch！
Moy Chen clicked the receiver。 He leaned close to the telephone in order to speak clearly when the operator responded。
This message was important。 There would be just time for men to reach the Mukden Theater。 The headquarters which Moy Chen was calling was less than ten minutes from the border of Chinatown； where the Mukden Theater was situated。
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 clo