A few minutes later he bade the policeman adieu, and, with a slip
of paper in his pocket bearing a certain address in a semirespectable
quarter, he walked briskly toward the nearest taxi stand.

Rokoff and Paulvitch had returned to their rooms, and were sitting
talking over the probable outcome of the evening's events. They
had telephoned to the offices of two of the morning papers from
which they momentarily expected representatives to hear the first
report of the scandal that was to stir social Paris on the morrow.

A heavy step sounded on the stairway. "Ah, but these newspaper men
are prompt," exclaimed Rokoff, and as a knock fell upon the door
of their room: "Enter, monsieur."

The smile of welcome froze upon the Russian's face as he looked
into the hard, gray eyes of his visitor.

"Name of a name!" he shouted, springing to his feet, "What brings
you here!"

"Sit down!" said Tarzan, so low that the men could barely catch
the words, but in a tone that brought Rokoff to his chair, and kept
Paulvitch in his.

"You know what has brought me here," he continued, in the same
low tone. "It should be to kill you, but because you are Olga de
Coude's brother I shall not do that--now.

"I shall give you a chance for your lives. Paulvitch does not