lied, but they could not prove it.

When Tarzan found himself clinging to the pole outside the window,
he followed his jungle instinct and looked below for enemies before
he ventured down. It was well he did, for just beneath stood
a policeman. Above, Tarzan saw no one, so he went up instead of
down.

The top of the pole was opposite the roof of the building, so it
was but the work of an instant for the muscles that had for years
sent him hurtling through the treetops of his primeval forest to
carry him across the little space between the pole and the roof.
From one building he went to another, and so on, with much climbing,
until at a cross street he discovered another pole, down which he
ran to the ground.

For a square or two he ran swiftly; then he turned into a little
all-night cafe and in the lavatory removed the evidences of his
over-roof promenade from hands and clothes. When he emerged a few
moments later it was to saunter slowly on toward his apartments.

Not far from them he came to a well-lighted boulevard which it was
necessary to cross. As he stood directly beneath a brilliant arc
light, waiting for a limousine that was approaching to pass him,
he heard his name called in a sweet feminine voice. Looking up, he
met the smiling eyes of Olga de Coude as she leaned forward upon
the back seat of the machine. He bowed very low in response to her
friendly greeting. When he straightened up the machine had borne
her away.