"I would throw him overboard tonight," he cried, "were Isure that those papers were not on his person.I cannot chance pitching them into the ocean with him.If you were not such a stupid coward, Alexis, you would find a way to enter his stateroom and search for the documents."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.""It will make no difference whom he suspects--after to-night,"said Rokoff, with a nasty grin.
After Miss Strong had gone below that night Tarzan stood leaning over the rail looking far out to sea.Every night he had done this since he had come on board--sometimes he stood thus for an hour.And the eyes that had been watching his every movement since he had boarded the ship at Algiers knew that this was his habit.
Even as he stood there this night those eyes were on him.
Presently the last straggler had left the deck.It was a clear night, but there was no moon--objects on deck were barely discernible.
From the shadows of the cabin two figures crept stealthily upon the ape-man from behind.The lapping of the waves against the ship's sides, the whirring of the propeller, the throbbing of the engines, drowned the almost soundless approach of the two.
They were quite close to him now, and crouching low, like tacklers on a gridiron.One of them raised his hand and lowered it, as though counting off seconds--one--two--three!
As one man the two leaped for their victim.Each grasped a leg, and before Tarzan of the Apes, lightning though he was, could turn to save himself he had been pitched over the low rail and was falling into the Atlantic.
Hazel Strong was looking from her darkened port across the dark sea.Suddenly a body shot past her eyes from the deck above.It dropped so quickly into the dark waters below that she could not be sure of what it was--it might have been a man, she could not say.She listened for some outcry from above--for the always-fearsome call, "Man overboard!"but it did not come.All was silence on the ship above--all was silence in the sea below.
The girl decided that she had but seen a bundle of refuse thrown overboard by one of the ship's crew, and a moment later sought her berth.
