"Stones?"
"Not stones."
"Ivory, then?"
"That's it; ivory," and a gleam of saturnine mirth shot across the other's dark features.
"You have to go a good way up for that now, don't you, Hazon?"
"Yes, a good way up. And it's contraband."
"The devil it is!"
Hazon nodded. Then he went to the door and looked out.
"Leave it open. It's better so. We can hear any one coming," he said, returning. "And now, Stanninghame, listen carefully, and we'll talk out the scheme. If you're on, well and good; if you're dead off it, why, I told you I had read you, and you're not the man to let drop by word or hint to a living soul any of what has passed between us."