Jane by Robin Maxwell Page A

success in following his teacher’s urgings to search for his fossils in the Dutch East Indies, the two of them needed no further convincing that they were right.
    “You sure you can’t be moved about a major find in equatorial Africa?” Father persisted. “My distinguished colleague, Mr. Darwin, were he here with us at this table, would agree that an ape-man will be found in Africa.”
    “But you have been trying and trying, Archie,” said Eugène Dubois, finishing with a bit of gentle teasing, “and with all of your work, you’ve got less than a leg bone to stand on.”
    My father laughed ruefully.
    “There is only one way this dispute can authoritatively be decided,” Ernst Haeckel said. “You will arm wrestle.”
    We collapsed into such a fit of laughter that the four of us were shocked to find Ral Conrath standing beside our table. He was smiling broadly, having overheard the challenge made in jest.
    I was unable to take my eyes from him, thinking how handsome he looked when he smiled, how large and virile was his presence.
    “Mr. Conrath,” Eugène said with much congeniality. “I never had a chance to thank you for your generous support this afternoon.”
    “Well, it didn’t hold a candle to Dr. Haeckel’s brilliant discourse, but it certainly was heartfelt.”
    Eugène looked behind him. “Are you alone?”
    “I am, as a matter of fact. I’m staying at the De Vere tonight and thought I’d have some dinner before I turned in.”
    “You must join us.”
    Father and Haeckel immediately made room, and the waiter was called to bring another chair.
    Within moments the conversation picked up where it had left off, as easy and convivial with the newcomer as it had been before. This Conrath fellow fit right in, I could not help but observe. I saw that Father liked the man, or at least felt some kinship with a fellow American. Ral was a Midwesterner, too, he from a small town in South Dakota. Ral was particularly attentive to Father, listening to his arguments, brow furrowed with intense interest.
    “I’m a tad reluctant to state my humble opinion in such illustrious company,” Conrath began, then paused for a long enough moment that the others all chimed in with encouragement to go on.
    “From what I’ve seen at Trinel and other East Indies digs, the European Neanderthal cave sites, and my work with Petrie…”
    “Petrie!” Archie exclaimed. “You worked with Flinders?” William Flinders Petrie was the most celebrated Egyptian archaeologist of the time.
    “I worked on the excavations at Luxor.”
    “That was an impressive find,” Dubois said, “and quite a feat of engineering, too.”
    “Bill’s a bit of a madman about those things. He insists on acting as his own engineer.”
    “One must have men one can trust with such delicate matters,” Dubois offered.
    “I’ve been on both coasts of Africa now,” Ral went on.
    “Kenya?” Father asked.
    “On safari there. Hunting big game. In fact, I took our president’s best friend into Amboseli, and he tells me Roosevelt can’t wait to leave office to ‘go shoot him some elephants.’”
    I winced at the mention of big-game hunting, the thought of which upset me deeply.
    “But that’s neither here nor there,” Ral continued. “I’m no expert, mind you, but I follow with great interest the adventures of pioneers like yourselves, and I’ve decided that I’m going to have to throw my hat in the ring with Professor Porter and the late, great Mr. Darwin. Africa’s the next place the missing link is going to be found.”
    “You sound very sure of yourself, Mr. Conrath,” I said, finally finding my voice.
    He looked me dead in the eye. “And you are…?”
    “Jane Porter,” I said and put my hand on Father’s arm.
    “This is my daughter, Mr. Conrath.”
    “I’m very glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Porter, and the truth is, yes, I’m close to one hundred percent sure West Central Africa is going to give up some