mencing to
realize the power which lay beyond the little pieces of metal and paper
which always changed hands when human beings rode, or ate, or slept, or
clothed themselves, or drank, or worked, or played, or sheltered
themselves from the rain or cold or sun.

It had become evident to Tarzan that without money one must die.
D'Arnot had told him not to worry, since he had more than enough for
both, but the ape-man was learning many things and one of them was that
people looked down upon one who accepted money from another without
giving something of equal value in exchange.

Shortly after the episode of the lion hunt, D'Arnot succeeded in
chartering an ancient tub for the coastwise trip to Tarzan's
land-locked harbor.

It was a happy morning for them both when the little vessel weighed
anchor and made for the open sea.

The trip to the beach was uneventful, and the morning after they
dropped anchor before the cabin, Tarzan, garbed once more in his jungle
regalia and carrying a spade, set out alone for the amphitheater of the
apes where lay the treasure.

Late the next day he returned, bearing the great chest upon his
shoulder, and at sunrise the little vessel worked through the harbor's
mouth and took up her northward journey.

Three weeks later Tarzan and D'Arnot were passengers on board a French
steamer bound for Lyons, and after a few days in that city D'Arnot took
Tarzan to Paris.

The ape-man was anxious to proceed to America, but D'Arnot insisted
that he must accompany him to Paris first, nor would he divulge the
nature of the urgent necessity upon which he based his demand.

One of the first things which D'Arnot accomplished after their arrival
was to arrange to visit a high official of the police department, an
old friend; and to take Tarzan with him.

Adroitly D'Arnot led the conversation from point to point until the
policeman had explained to the interested Tarzan many of the methods in
vogue for apprehending and identifying criminals.

Not the least interesting to Tarzan was the part played by finger
prints in this fascinating science.

"But of what value are these imprints," asked Tarzan, "when, after a
few years the lines upon the fingers are entirely changed by the
wearing out of the old tissue and the growth of new?"

"The lines never change," replied the official. "From infancy to
senility the fingerprints of an individual change only in size, except
as injuries alter the loops and whor