“No,” Perry replied. “But there isn’t any reason to suppose Pteranodon was in bright colors and a blackish-brown is the usual thing in Nature, so I’m going to make it that.” “Where are you going to put the exhibit?” queried the old merchant, as he went to the door. “Right in this main hall,” the boy answered. “It’s our biggest prize, thanks to you, Father, and we’re going to make the most of it.” His father laughed at the lad’s confident manner. “I hope you occasionally consult the Director,” he said. “You talk for all the world, Perry, as though you were the only person in the building.” The boy colored to the roots of his hair at the implied rebuke of boasting. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, “but—but I have got the sort of idea that the Pteranodon is my pet, and they’ve let me work it all out, almost by myself. The Director’s in and out all the time, of course.” With the goal before him of having both the skeleton prepared and also the model finished and hung before the arrival of his uncle, Perry worked night and day. The director of the small museum helped him, for he too was anxious to have the museum’s richest treasure on display before the coming of Dr. Hunt. Between them, they accomplished wonders, and the day before the expected visit of the scientist, the skeleton of the Pteranodon was safely affixed against the wall of the main hall, while above him, swooping downwards, was the 21-foot model of the giant flying reptile. He looked every inch his size, and the actual bones themselves, immediately below, showed how exactly true to reality was the restoration that had been made. When, next day, his uncle came, Perry could hardly restrain his impatience until a visit to the Museum had been arranged. He was proud of his work, as proud in completing the preparation of the skeleton and the model as he had been when, one evening two years before, in the red sand of the Eocene river bed in Egypt, he had shown his uncle the skull of the Moeritherium. But, at the same time, he was a little anxious, for the director of the local museum, though a scholar, was not an expert in paleontology. The lad was on pins and needles, therefore, when, with his father and his uncle, the car slowed up at the Museum. Perry led them into the main hall and pointed to the wall. “There!” he said. The professor cast a quick glance at the model overhead, but, as Perry knew well, it was not the restoration, but the actual skeleton itself that interested the scientist and he walked up to the case. Carefully, with an examination of details that amazed Perry, for even he did not realize how much importance might attach to a small groove in a joint, the scientist scrutinized every bone, and every fragment of the plaster. [Illustration: _Courtesy of J. B. Lippincott & Co._ PTERANODON, CLIMBING FOR A SWOOP.