Turner tossed it over to him, and Codfish at once buried himself in its columns. After ten minutes' reading, the Codfish slapped his knee with a resounding slap and gave evidence of excitement. "What's up, old top?" inquired Frank, looking up from his book. "Basis for a scoop first lick out of the box," was the answer. "And what?" "O, read it in the _News_ day after to-morrow," and the Codfish settled himself to lay out his plans. He had come across an item which suggested something in the way of a story which would attract the attention of the whole college. Nothing was seen of the Codfish the next day. He explained to his roommates that he had taken two cuts and had gone into the suburbs on an exploring expedition. He had hardly time to welcome David Powers who arrived in due season, and was properly installed among his belongings in the room across the hallway. But the following morning as with Frank and Jimmy he strolled across the Campus to Osborn Hall for the first recitation after Chapel, he proudly exhibited a copy of the _News_. On the first page in black type was emblazoned the head: EXTRAORDINARY DISCOVERY. BONES OF PREHISTORIC ANIMAL UNEARTHED BY WORKMEN PRESENTED TO YALE MUSEUM. SAID TO BE MOST IMPORTANT FIND IN RECENT YEARS. Then followed a description of the bones which were represented to be those of a prehistoric horse of a species not before known to the paleontologists. The article ended with the information that the bones had been carefully preserved, and had been presented, or would shortly be presented, to the Yale Museum by the _News_ representative who had had a prominent part in their recovery. The Codfish puffed out his chest as Frank and Jimmy scanned the article. "What do you think of your humble roommate now, eh, what? Didn't I tell you to read it in the _News_?" "So that's what bit you the other night?" "Sure. The ordinary eye would have passed that item over without a thought, but I saw possibilities in it. You never saw so many bones," he added. "Fine bones, perfectly fine bones, just as good as any over in the Museum, and a lot whiter than most of them." "Yes, but who told you they belonged to the prehistoric horse?" "O, the foreman of the gang. He was a keen guy, I tell you, knew all about the game and got me so enthusiastic that I bought the whole bunch for ten dollars. They'll have a chance to mull over them up at the Museum in a day or two." "More likely they are the remains of some poor bossy," said Jimmy, "who laid down and died yesteryear." "You are the most disgusting pessimist I know," said the Codfish in high dudgeon. "Haven't they as good a chance to be old-fashioned bones as anything? Anyway I got the story in and a credit of five thousand words at least on the scoop. The fact that I bought them and presented them to the Museum should be worth another bunch of credit to me, but I'll work that up into a new story that will knock their eye out."