"Then good-by for the present."
Robeckal left. Hardly had the door closed behind him than the man in the brown overcoat stopped reading his paper and left the room too.
"One word, friend," he said to Robeckal.
"Quick, what does it concern?"
"Twenty francs for you, if you answer me properly."
"Go ahead."
"What is this Firejaws?"
"Athlete, acrobat, wrestler—anything you please."
"What is his right name?"
"Girdel, Cesar Girdel."