med to me to be the upper portion of
the wing of a large bat. It was at least two feet in length, a curved
bone, with a membranous veil beneath it.

"A monstrous bat!" I suggested.

"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, severely. "Living, as I do,
in an educated and scientific atmosphere, I could not have conceived
that the first principles of zoology were so little known. Is it
possible that you do not know the elementary fact in comparative
anatomy, that the wing of a bird is really the forearm, while the wing
of a bat consists of three elongated fingers with membranes between?
Now, in this case, the bone is certainly not the forearm, and you can
see for yourself that this is a single membrane hanging upon a single
bone, and therefore that it cannot belong to a bat. But if it is
neither bird nor bat, what is it?"

My small stock of knowledge was exhausted.

"I really do not know," said I.

He opened the standard work to which he had already referred me.

"Here," said he, pointing to the picture of an extraordinary flying
monster, "is an excellent reproduction of the dimorphodon, or
pterodactyl, a flying reptile of the Jurassic period. On the next page
is a diagram of the mechanism of its wing. Kindly compare it with the
specimen in your hand."

A wave of amazement passed over me as I looked. I was convinced.
There could be no getting away from it. The cumulative proof was
overwhelming. The sketch, the photographs, the narrative, and now the
actual specimen--the evidence was complete. I said so--I said so
warmly, for I felt that the Professor was an ill-used man. He leaned
back in his chair with drooping eyelids and a tolerant smile, basking
in this sudden gleam of sunshine.

"It's just the very biggest thing that I ever heard of!" said I, though
it was my journalistic rather than my scientific enthusiasm that was
roused. "It is colossal. You are a Columbus of science who has
discovered a lost world. I'm awfully sorry if I seemed to doubt you.
It was all so unthinkable. But I understand evidence when I see it,
and this should be good enough for anyone."

The Professor purred with satisfaction.

"And then, sir, what did you do next?"

"It was the wet season, Mr. Malone, and my stores were exhausted. I
explored some portion of this huge cliff, but I was unable to find any
way to scale it. The pyramidal rock upon which I saw and shot the
pterodactyl was more accessible. Being something