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Updated: May 11, 2025
One day, as the men were gathered at a little distance inspecting the body of a panther that had fallen to the gun of one of them who had been hunting inland, Paulvitch lay sleeping beneath his tree. He was awakened by the touch of a hand upon his shoulder. With a start he sat up to see a huge, anthropoid ape squatting at his side, inspecting him intently. The Russian was thoroughly frightened.
There they waited until after eleven, then Paulvitch took down the receiver of their telephone. He called a number. "The apartments of Lieutenant D'Arnot?" he asked, when he had obtained his connection. "A message for Monsieur Tarzan, if he will be so kind as to step to the telephone." For a minute there was silence. "Monsieur Tarzan?"
"Why, I'd die there in a week." "You'd have a chance there," replied the sailor. "Here, you wouldn't have no chance. Why, if I woke up my maties here they'd probably cut your heart out of you before the Englishman got a chance at you at all. It's mighty lucky for you that I'm the one to be awake now and not none of the others." "You're crazy," cried Paulvitch.
There was an odd, eager look in her eyes. Mike shook his head. "Nope. But a friend of mine did. Ever know a guy named Paulvitch?" She squealed with delight, as though she'd been playfully pinched. "Sir Gay? You mean Serge Paulvitch, the Fiend of Florence?" She pronounced the name properly: "Sair-gay," instead of "surge," as too many people were prone to do.
If it were not that that other devil's spawn, Paulvitch, still knew my secret, I should kill you here tonight with my bare hands." Rokoff laughed. "You would not do that, my dear lieutenant," he said.
Their very cupidity was to prove the means of their undoing, in the matter of the ransom at least. Purposely he hesitated and haggled over the amount, but Paulvitch was obdurate. Finally the ape-man wrote out his cheque for a larger sum than stood to his credit at the bank.
"I have survived grimmer enemies than Rokoff and Paulvitch." He saw that she knew nothing of the occurrence in the Rue Maule, nor did he mention it, fearing that it might distress her. "For your own safety," he continued, "why do you not turn the scoundrels over to the authorities? They should make quick work of them." She hesitated for a moment before replying.
Baffled and beaten at every turn of Fortune's wheel, reacted upon time after time by his own malign plotting, the principal victim of his own criminality, Paulvitch was yet so blind as to imagine that his greatest happiness lay in a continuation of the plottings and schemings which had ever brought him and Rokoff to disaster, and the latter finally to a hideous death.
All ignorant of the unseen enemy upon the river's bank the lad floated slowly down the stream while Paulvitch followed along the jungle path a few yards behind him. A mile below the village the black boy dipped his paddle into the water and forced his skiff toward the bank.
The sailor, having made sure that Paulvitch had departed, returned to the forecastle, where he hid away his booty and turned into his bunk, while in the cabin that had belonged to the Russian there ticked on and on through the silences of the night the little mechanism in the small black box which held for the unconscious sleepers upon the ill-starred Kincaid the coming vengeance of the thwarted Russian.
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