Tholbin strolled from the hotel and walked in the opposite direction when he reached the street.
Scarcely had the two departed, before a third man stepped from an obscure corner of the lobby, and strode after the others. He stopped on the sidewalk and quickly noted that the paths had parted.
This man, a firm-faced, well-built American, was Clifford Marsland, agent of The Shadow. It had been his task to watch David Tholbin in New York. That work had brought him abroad, after Tholbin’s connection with Frederick Froman and Parker Noyes had become known to The Shadow’s operatives.
Until now, Cliff had noted but one suspicious action on the part of Tholbin. That had been the man’s first meeting with Senov. Cliff had only glimpsed the Russian then; now, he was sure that it was the same man.
Tholbin’s chance remark to the clerk had been deceiving to Cliff. The nod toward Senov, on the contrary, had been a give-away. Confronted by two tasks, Cliff chose the one that offered new possibilities. He took up the trail of Michael Senov.
The Russian hailed a taxicab a few blocks from the hotel. Cliff, passing by, heard him questioning the driver. Senov’s French was difficult for the taximan to understand. Cliff recognized the words that he was trying to say.
Senov was asking if the driver was acquainted with a certain district in the Montmartre. At last the man understood. Senov clambered into the cab. Cliff spied another cab and entered it. He gave the destination which Senov had chosen.
Cliff sensed that he was headed for adventure. A veteran of the World War, he was familiar with Paris and spoke French fluently. He had no idea what Senov’s connection might be with Tholbin, but he was determined to gain the information tonight.
He urged the driver to hasten, hoping that he would arrive at the spot named almost as soon as Senov.
As the cab turned from the more traveled streets, Cliff felt sure that the Russian — whose name he did not know — must be bound for some obscure hideout.