nding before the door, with head bent, as though to catch
the words of the two within. A nasty smile curled his bearded lip.

Tarzan could hear the woman's voice commanding the fellow to leave her
cabin. "I shall send for my husband," she cried. "He will show you no
mercy."

Paulvitch's sneering laugh came through the polished panels.

"The purser will fetch your husband, madame," said the man. "In fact,
that officer has already been notified that you are entertaining a man
other than your husband behind the locked door of your cabin."

"Bah!" cried the woman. "My husband will know!"

"Most assuredly your husband will know, but the purser will not; nor
will the newspaper men who shall in some mysterious way hear of it on
our landing. But they will think it a fine story, and so will all your
friends when they read of it at breakfast on--let me see, this is
Tuesday--yes, when they read of it at breakfast next Friday morning.
Nor will it detract from the interest they will all feel when they
learn that the man whom madame entertained is a Russian servant--her
brother's valet, to be quite exact."

"Alexis Paulvitch," came the woman's voice, cold and fearless, "you are
a coward, and when I whisper a certain name in your ear you will think
better of your demands upon me and your threats against me, and then
you will leave my cabin quickly, nor do I think that ever again will
you, at least, annoy me," and there came a moment's silence in which
Tarzan could imagine the woman leaning toward the scoundrel and
whispering the thing she had hinted at into his ear. Only a moment of
silence, and then a startled oath from the man--the scuffling of
feet--a woman's scream--and silence.

But scarcely had the cry ceased before the ape-man had leaped from his
hiding-place. Rokoff started to run, but Tarzan grasped him by the
collar and dragged him back. Neither spoke, for both felt
instinctively that murder was being done in that room, and Tarzan was
confident that Rokoff had had no intention that his confederate should
go that far--he felt that the man's aims were deeper than that--deeper
and even more sinister than brutal, cold-blooded murder. Without
hesitating to question those within, the ape-man threw his giant
shoulder against the frail panel, and in a shower of splintered wood he
entered the cabin, dragging Rokoff after him. Before him, on a couch,
the woman lay, and on top of her was Paulvitch, his fingers grippin