By tacit consent, nothing was said at the breakfast table concerning the subject that had been discussed the night before, for Perry’s mother was inclined to jump to conclusions and it was an understood thing in the household that the best time to inform her about anything that was new was after it had been decided and settled. So Perry started off for school, just as usual, and for over a week he kept his ambitions to himself. One Saturday morning, however, at breakfast time, his father said to him: “Perry, if you’ve nothing better to do, you might walk down with me to the office this morning.” “Sure!” the lad replied gladly, for these Saturday morning walks were a great pleasure to him. The old financier always had his car come round to the door sharp at 8:30 in the morning, but if the day were fine, it was his custom to dismiss the chauffeur and to take the three miles to his office at a brisk walk. He was a good walker and had trained Perry to keep up a lively pace. This morning, as soon as they had struck their gait, the merchant said to his son: “I had a letter from your Uncle George last night.” “Uncle George?” repeated the boy, questioningly. “Yes.” “Was it—” Perry hesitated. “About you?” interpolated his father. “Yes, it was.” “Oh, Father, what did he say?” “I had asked him about his proposed expedition to Egypt, and especially I wanted to find out when he planned to start.” “And he’s going soon?” “Two weeks from Monday.” The boy was aching to hurl a series of questions at his father, to bombard him with them, but experience had taught him not to show impatience. Trying to hold himself in check, therefore, he said, only: “Is he going for the Museum?” “Yes. He wrote me that he is anxious to trace the ancestry of the elephants. It appears that we don’t yet know where the elephants came from, and we don’t know exactly from what kind of a beast the elephant developed. The British have done a little work along that line in lower Egypt, but for the time being, they have given up excavating and the Museum has secured permission from the British Government to explore the Fayum.” “Uncle George will find whatever there is to find,” Perry asserted confidently. “Perhaps,” his father rejoined, smiling, “you may be the one to do the finding.” “Me?” “Why not?” “Oh, Father, then I’m really going?” “Do you want to go so much?” For an instant the boy was tongue-tied, for it came over him with a rush that all his boyhood dreams were about to be realized. Then he burst out with: “Want to go, Father? I’m wild to go!” “Well, then,” the other answered with mock resignation, “I suppose we’ll have to arrange it. It’s true, son, that your uncle seems to think the idea of your joining the expedition is a bit foolish. He says you’re too young to know what you’re about and not strong enough to be of any use to the expedition.” “But—” began Perry, interrupting.