"Yes," answered the manager; "he sent his assistant down the river with a note to me in these terms: 'Clear this poor devil out of the country, and don't bother sending more of that sort. I had rather be alone than have the kind of men you can dispose of with me.' It was more than a year ago. Can you imagine such impudence!"

     "Anything since then?" asked the other hoarsely.

     "Ivory," jerked the nephew; "lots of it -- prime sort -- lots -- most annoying, from him."

     "And with that?" questioned the heavy rumble.

     "Invoice," was the reply fired out, so to speak. Then silence. They had been talking about Kurtz.

     I was broad awake by this time, but, lying perfectly at ease, remained still, having no inducement to change my position.

     "How did that ivory come all this way?" growled the elder man, who seemed very vexed.