"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 033 - The Living Joss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

room, with nearly a dozen tables. At the present hour, it was deserted. The Chinamen took a table at the
side of the room.

A few minutes later, the sallow-faced man entered. He looked about him with the air of a man who had
made an interesting discovery. He sat down at a vacant table.

One of the Celestials blinked blandly at the newcomer, then spoke to his companion. The gist of his
remark - in Chinese - was that this must be some chance American making a random trip to Chinatown.

A waiter appeared, carrying bowls of food, which he placed before the Chinese patrons. They were
evidently regular eaters here. When the waiter turned to the American, the latter addressed him in
sing-song fashion.

"Chop suey?" he asked. "You givee chop suey here? Make him quick. Chop suey."

Again, one of the Chinamen spoke in his native tongue. He mentioned that this man was unquestionably a
chance sight-seer. Chop suey was a dish favored by those who were not accustomed to real Chinese
delicacies. This restaurant served it only for strangers such as this one.

TO most Occidentals, Chinese faces are expressionless. But to the sallow man seated in this obscure
restaurant, it was plain that the dining Celestials had come here to converse in private. He had noted their
peculiar reticence when he had first observed them at Mott and Pell.

They were speaking freely now, and the listener understood their jargon. Pretending to be a chance
stroller, he was playing the part of eavesdropper.

He learned from the conversation that they were Chinatown merchants; and while he clumsily fumbled
with chopsticks over a bowl of chop suey, he waited for a new trend in the discussion.

The Chinamen were paying no attention to him. He was apparently interested only in the chop suey.
Hence neither the speaker nor the listeners were aware that another watcher had arrived.

Peering through the corner of the front window, an unseen personage was watching the Chinamen as they
spoke, and also casting occasional glances in the direction of the sallow-faced American.

His form invisible against the wall outside the building, this being had become a specter of the night. Silent
and watchful, he was observing all that passed within the room, and his keen eyes spotted the fact that
the sallow-faced man was secretly interested in the Chinese discussion.

"You say, then," remarked one solemn Chinaman, in his native tongue, "that he has returned."

"I do not say that he has returned," replied the other. "I say only that which I have heard. There is talk
about Kwa. Talk that he is here."

"Kwa has long been expected. Each time that he came before, it was soon learned that he was here."

"Yes; and each time that Kwa departed, we heard no more of him until he returned."

The yellow faces peered soberly at each other. Then one Chinese merchant took up the thought that was
evidently in the minds of both.