Paulvitch smiled. "You are supposed to be the brains of this
partnership, my dear Nikolas," he replied. "Why do you not find
the means to search Monsieur Caldwell's stateroom--eh?"

Two hours later fate was kind to them, for Paulvitch, who was ever
on the watch, saw Tarzan leave his room without locking the door.
Five minutes later Rokoff was stationed where he could give the
alarm in case Tarzan returned, and Paulvitch was deftly searching
the contents of the ape-man's luggage.

He was about to give up in despair when he saw a coat which Tarzan
had just removed. A moment later he grasped an official envelope
in his hand. A quick glance at its contents brought a broad smile
to the Russian's face.

When he left the stateroom Tarzan himself could not have told that
an article in it had been touched since he left it--Paulvitch was
a past master in his chosen field. When he handed the packet to
Rokoff in the seclusion of their stateroom the larger man rang for
a steward, and ordered a pint of champagne.

"We must celebrate, my dear Alexis," he said.

"It was luck, Nikolas," explained Paulvitch. "It is evident that
he carries these papers always upon his person--just by chance
he neglected to transfer them when he changed coats a few minutes
since. But there will be the deuce to pay when he discovers his
loss. I am afraid that he will immediately connect you with it.
Now that he knows that you are on board he will suspect you at
once."