"But Lord help you if you've put the _News_ in wrong," said Frank. "Tush, tush," was all that Codfish would say, "don't discourage the efforts of a budding genius." Several days later three expressmen might have been seen carrying most carefully a gigantic packing box labeled: RELICS--WITH CARE. and addressed to the Peabody Museum. Behind it marched the Codfish. "Round the back way," he commanded. "You can't get in the front way. Easy there. You're carrying the most important thing you ever handled." "It's darn'd heavy," grunted one of the men. "That's because it's so valuable," admonished the guardian of the box. "Don't drop it, on your life; it's a prehistoric horse." "Well, if it is, give me a historic one. He must be solid stone." "No, only solid bone, like your head. Easy there!" Stumbling and grunting the men carried the box as gingerly as they could around to the back of the Museum. The Codfish left his precious possession, and hunted around in the gloomy depths of the basement of the Museum among the giant bones of long extinct mammals which lined the corridors. "They must all be ossified here," he muttered to himself, but as he was about to give up the search for something living in that forbidding cavern, he came upon an apron-clad man who looked him over curiously. "Well," said he of the apron. "I'm looking for the bone man," said the Codfish somewhat abashed. "You're in the wrong museum, you want the dime kind." "No, I don't. I want the bone professor." "O, the bone professor, eh? Well, I'm the man," he said, while the suspicion of a smile crossed the pale features. "What's wanted?" "Got a bunch of bones out here for you, great stuff, too." "Whose bones?" "O, it's something that will interest you. I've presented them to the Museum." "You have, eh? That's kind of you. Didn't you think we had enough?" glancing around at the tiers of cases and the tons of uncased bones lying on the floor. "O, but you've got nothing like these. These are the whitest bones you ever saw, belonged to a prehistoric horse or something of that kind. Don't you read the _News_? Take a look at them. Where do you want them put?" The "bone professor" called a workman who, with a hatchet, soon had the cover of the packing case ripped off, exposing the great find of the Codfish. "This is a poor joke," said the professor, the danger light beginning to flash in his eye. "Take them out of this." "Why, aren't they good bones? Didn't they belong to a prehistoric horse?" "A prehistoric jackass, and you are a direct descendant," shouted the professor. "I won't have you or your bones around here. You've dug up a domestic animal cemetery somewhere. Off with them," and he turned on his heel and plunged into the basement without so much as another look at the discoverer of the prehistoric horse.