As Craig collected his scattered forces, Long Sin motioned to him, as if he had a message to deliver.

Kennedy frowned suspiciously.  He was about to turn away, when the Chinaman began pleading earnestly for a chance to say a few words.

“Step aside for a moment, you fellows, won’t you please,” Craig asked.  “I will hear what you have to say, Long Sin.”

Long Sin looked about craftily.

“What is it?” prompted Craig, seeing that at last they were all alone.

Long Sin again looked around.

“Swear that I will go free and not suffer,” Long Sin whispered, “and I will betray the great Clutching Hand.”

Kennedy studied the Chinaman keenly for a moment.  Then, seemingly satisfied with the scrutiny, he nodded slowly assent.

As Craig did so, I saw Long Sin lean over and whisper into Kennedy’s ear.

Craig started back in horror and surprise.

CHAPTER XIV

THE RECKONING

Pacing up and down his den in the heart of Chinatown, Long Sin was thinking over his bargain with Kennedy to betray the infamous Clutching Hand.

It was a small room in a small and unpretentious house, but it adequately expressed the character of the subtle Oriental.  The den was lavishly furnished, while the guileful Long Sin himself wore a richly figured lounging gown of the finest and costliest silk, chosen for the express purpose of harmonizing with the luxurious Far Eastern hangings and furniture so as to impress his followers and those whom he might choose as visitors.

At length he seated himself at a teakwood table, still deliberating over the promise he had been forced to make to Kennedy.  He sat for some moments, deeply absorbed in thought.

Suddenly an idea seemed to strike him.  Lifting a little hammer, he struck a Chinese gong on the table at his side.  At the same time, he leaned over and turned a knob at the side of a large roll-top desk.

A few seconds later a sort of hatchway, covered by a rug on the floor, in one corner of the room, was slowly lifted and Long Sin’s secretary, a sallow, cadaverous Chinaman, appeared from below.  He stepped noiselessly into the room and shuffled across to Long Sin.

Long Sin scowled, as though something had interfered with his own plans, but tore open the envelope without a word, spreading out on his lap the sheet of paper it contained.

The letter bore a typewritten message, all in capitals, which read: 

“Be at headquarters at 12.  Destroy this immediately.”

At the bottom of the note appeared the sinister signature of the Clutching Hand.

As soon as he had finished reading the note, the Chinaman turned to his obsequious secretary, who stood motionless, with folded arms and head meekly bent.

“Very well,” he said with an imperious wave of his hand.  “You may go.”