Dragons Teeth Crichton 2017 (WWT)

She was so charming he could not possibly refuse her. He brought down the plates and showed her
his pictures, which seemed now to belong to another lifetime.
“Who is this man with the tiny pick?”
“That’s Professor Cope, with his geological hammer.”
“And that beside him?”
“That’s a skull of a saber-tooth tiger.”
“And this man?”
“That’s Cookie. Our teamster and cook.”
“And this? Is he standing with an Indian?”
“That’s Charlie Sternberg and Little Wind. He was a Snake scout. He died.”
“Oh dear. And this is the badlands? It looks like the desert.”
“Yes, you can see how eroded it is.”
“How long did you spend there?”
“Six weeks.”
“And why would you go to such a place?”
“Well, where there is erosion, the bones stick out and are easier to uncover.”
“You went there for bones?”
“Yes, of course.”
“How very odd,” she said. “Did bones pay you a lot?”
“No, I paid my own way.”
“You paid your own way?” She pointed to the desolate picture. “To go there?”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “You see, I made a bet at Yale and then I had to go.”
But he could tell she was not listening anymore. She thumbed through the glass plates, holding each
to the light, glancing quickly, going on to the next.
“What do you hope to find?” he asked, watching her.
“It is all so strange to me,” she said. “I was merely curious about you. Here, put them back.”
As he replaced them on the shelf, she said, “And did you find bones?”
“Oh yes, lots of them.”
“Where are they now?”
“Half were taken down the Missouri River by steamer. I have the other half.”
“You have them? Where?”
“In the hotel.”
“Can I see these bones?”
Something about her manner made him suspicious. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I am just curious to see them, now that you have mentioned them.”
“Everyone in the town is curious to see them.”
“Of course, if it is too much trouble—”
“Oh no,” Johnson said. “It’s no trouble.”
In his room, he opened one crate for her to see. Some gritty dirt fell to the floor.
“That’s just old rocks!” she said, peering at the pieces of black shale.
“No, no, this is a fossil. Look here,” he said, and he traced the shape of a dinosaur leg. It was a
perfect specimen.
“But I thought you had found old bones, not rock.”