There was a moment’s silence.
“Hyra—Hyratherium,” he said at last.
“Hyracotherium,” the scientist corrected him, shaking his head.
“That’s it. But I could never quite make out, Uncle George, whether he was much different from Eohippus. He didn’t have five toes, did he?”
“No one knows,” was the answer. “Some of these days we may find a complete skeleton of Hyracotherium in that big stretch of clay under London, but, so far, there’s only a skull known. Personally, I think he’s the same as an Eohippus. Of course there are rudiments of the fourth and fifth toes on the hind feet of that type. But was there ever a true five-toed horse?”
“I don’t know.”
“It seems to me,” said his uncle, “that you’d better come along with me and try to find out. I don’t know, either.”
Perry almost jumped from his chair.
“Oh, Uncle George,” he said, “you’re going off on another expedition!”
“Yes.”