“I propose,” said Fred, with a glance at Yerkes and me, “to tell Courtney everything without reserve.”

The little old hunter nodded, watching us with bright blue eyes.  I received the impression that he knew more secrets than he could tell should he talk down all the years that might be left him.  He was the sort of man in whom nearly every one confides.

“We’re after Tippoo Tib’s ivory!” said Fred, plunging into the middle of things.  “Monty has gone to drive a bargain with the King of Belgium.  Do you think it’s a wild goose chase?”

Courtney chuckled.  “No,” he said.  “I wouldn’t call it that.  They’ve been killing elephants in Africa ever since the flood.  Ivory must have accumulated.  It’s somewhere.  Some of it must be so old and well seasoned as to be practically priceless, unless rats have spoiled it.  Rats play old Harry with ivory, you know.”

“Have you a notion where it is?” demanded Fred.

Courtney laughed.  “Behold me leaving the country!” he said.  “If I knew I’d look.  If I saw I’d take!”

“Can you give us a hint?”

“There are caves near the summit of Mount Elgon that would hold the world’s revenues.  None of them have ever been thoroughly explored.  Cannibals live in some of them.  Cannibals and caverns is a combination that might appeal to Tippoo Tib, but there’s no likelihood that he buried all that ivory in one place, you know.  I suspect the greater part is in the Congo, and that the Germans know its whereabouts within a mile or two.”

“How did they discover it?”

“Why don’t they dig it out?”

“What keeps ’em from turning their knowledge into money?”

We had forgotten our own troubles.  Courtney, too, seemed to forget for the moment that he had began by asking us a question.

“Remember Emin Pasha?  When was it—­’87—­’88—­’89 that Stanley went and rescued him?  Perhaps you recall what was then described as Emin’s ingratitude after the event?  British government offered him a billet.  Khedive of Egypt cabled him the promise of a job, all on Stanley’s recommendation.  Emin turned ’em all down and accepted a job from the Germans.  Nobody understood it at the time.  My own idea is that Emin thought he knew more or less where that hoard is.  He didn’t really want to come away with Stanley, you know.  Being a German, I suppose he preferred to share his secret with his own crowd.  I dare say he thought of telling Stanley but judged that the ‘Rock breaker’ might demand a too large share.  The value of the stuff must be so enormous that it’s almost worth going to war about, from the point of view of a nation hungry for new colonies.  Emin is dead, and it’s likely he left no exact particulars behind him.  To my personal knowledge the Germans have had a swarm of spies for a long time operating beyond the Congo border.”

“Were you looking for the stuff yourself?” I asked.