“I guess you weren’t quite as clever as you thought you were, Caleb! Hand over the ivories and be quick about it.”
“You’re nothing but a crook!” the old man cried furiously.
“Hand over the ivories if you value your life.”
Instead of obeying the order, Caleb slowly retreated toward the door. Max Laponi’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“I don’t want to shoot an old man but if you force me——”
“Don’t shoot,” Caleb quavered. “I’ll give up the ivory.”
“Good. Now you’re acting sensibly. Drop the box on the table and raise your hands above your head.”
Slowly, Caleb complied with the order.
Laponi moved with cat-like tread across the floor and snatched up the box. With his revolver still trained on the old man, he backed toward the door.
“Thank you for a very profitable evening,” he smirked. “And when you locate your friend Mr. Winters——”