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they will,” Roper said, bracing for an upcoming bump. “I didn’t know there was a dig here on the Kaiparowits.”

      “There’s several. This one was started a year or so ago by the University of Utah, before there was a monument, but now it’s under the direction of the BLM. So far, it’s been poorly funded and staffed, all from the university with almost no help from the BLM,” Sean said. “Compared to its potential, not much is being done.”

      “Morrison formation?” Roper asked. “Like Vernal’s Dinosaur National Monument?”

      “Nah,” Sean shook his head. “The whole Kaiparowits is Cretaceous. We’re talking about the Straight Cliffs formation, seventy to ninety million years ago. Same formation that has all the coal.”

      “Then we’re not talking Jurassic dinosaurs,” Roper said. “Like Tyrannosaurus Rex or Stegosaurus?”

      “No, but we’re seeing their eventual successors, right before the dinosaurs disappeared,” Sean explained, “not nearly as much is known about Cretaceous dinosaurs.”

      “So what species are we talking about?”

      “The better known ones are the Parasaurolophus, the tubed duckbill dinosaur, and Theropods like Dasplotasaurus. He’s a direct descendant of T-Rex.”

      “Have they found any of them here?” Roper asked, his eyes shining with fascination.

      “We hope to,” Sean replied. “They’ve been found in similar formations in Alberta, Canada and in New Mexico.”

      “Bet they would be almost priceless,” Roper said, shaking his head in amazement.

      “Don’t know if it’s true,” Sean continued, “but I’ve heard of an intact Parasaurolophus bringing eight to nine hundred thousand dollars on the black market.”

      “Black market?” Roper asked, surprised. “I didn’t know there was a black market for fossils.”

      “Actually,” Sean said, slowing the Landrover to a stop, “there’s a very active black market, mainly overseas, Europe or Japan. Wealthy private collectors or even some reputable museums buy fossils and are careful not to ask many questions.”

      “Surely, there’s none of that going on here.”

      “On the contrary,” Sean replied, opening his door. “In fact the BLM has a ten thousand dollar reward for information leading to the capture of any fossil thieves.”

      “It’s that common?”

      “Yeah, we’ve found a number of abandoned digs. Of course, we don’t know for sure what they took, but sometimes we can get a good idea by what they left.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Sloppy excavation. Small bones overlooked and left behind. Sometimes we can extrapolate which fossil must have been removed.”

      “I’d think the monument would put a stop to that,” Roper observed as he climbed out of the Landrover and joined Sean.

      “Believe you me, they would like to,” Sean replied. “There’s just not enough personnel to patrol an area this big.”

      Turning, Sean started hiking down a fairly well worn footpath. “We have to walk from here. It’s only about a quarter mile.”

      With Sean leading, they trudged along a serpentine trail that meandered over a thin layer of fine red soil, probably coming from the erosion of the Pink Cliffs. Though this layer was only two to three inches thick, it was unusual because it contrasted sharply with the surrounding rocks, an almond colored sandstone. This strata, however, was crimson red and was undoubtedly the reason this area was called Ruby Flats.

      After about fifteen minutes of brisk hiking they arrived at the dig located on the east bank of a ten-foot deep arroyo. Through the years, sporadic floods had eroded away the Ruby colored sand and through the dishwater-white shale, leaving a gray flank of exposed Straight Cliffs formation. The entire site had been cordoned off into a half dozen roughly equal rectangles, each area tagged with a different colored flag.

      Presently, there were three workers, two males and one female, all crowded into the very most easterly rectangle next to the crumbling bank. Oblivious to the approaching visitors, they were intently dusting, scratching, brushing and gently picking away at the overlying blanket of dirt and debris. The entire crew was from the University of Utah’s paleontology department, his alma mater, Sean informed Roper as they approached, and he personally was acquainted with the team’s leader, Professor Leonard Albright.

      Dressed in khaki cargo pants and a denim shirt, the goateed Doctor Albright looked up and smiled when he saw Sean approaching.

      “Ready to go to work?” he asked, standing up and offering a hand.

      “Wish I could, Lanny,” Sean responded, enthusiastically shaking the offered hand, “but the monument manager Brisco has got me tied up today.”

      “We surely could use a hand,” Albright said, stroking his salt and pepper beard. “As usual, we’re very short handed.”

      “Hi, I’m Doug Rehnquist.” Roper stepped forward, deciding Sean wasn’t going to introduce him.

      “You Sean’s assistant?” the professor asked, eyes twinkling mischievously.

      “You got that right,” Roper grinned back. “You must have a fair idea how much Sean likes cowboys.”

      “About as much as miners I suspect.” Albright grinned.

      “What you working on?” Sean asked, motioning toward the partially unearthed fossil.

      “Not sure yet,” Professor Albright said, removing his red Utah Ute’s football cap and running his fingers through thick gray hair. “Think it’s some kind of a Theropod, probably of the family Dromaeosaurus. In some ways, quite similar to the other Dasplotasaurus we’ve found, but this skull has protective plating. It’s a bit smaller in size and has four toes.”

      “Sounds more like Velociraptor. They’re Cretaceous,” Sean suggested, “but perhaps a bit later than this dig.”

      “I thought raptors were Jurassic,” Roper interrupted.

      “Only in the movies,” Sean snickered. “Only in Jurassic Park.”

      “You’re right,” Albright continued the original train of thought, “this is a bit like Velociraptor, only no S-curve to the spine and again there’s that darn skull.”

      “So what do you think?” Sean asked.

      “I’d rather not say,” the Professor replied.

      “Come on,” Sean insisted. “You’ve aroused my curiosity, don’t leave me hanging.”

      “Well,” the Professor said, eyes shining with excitement, “I don’t know for sure and it’s certainly not official yet, but we may have discovered an entirely new species!”

      “Wow—congratulations, Lanny,” Sean exclaimed. “Lanosaurus does have a certain ring.”

      “Let’s not start celebrating yet,” Albright said. “There’s a lot of hard work left and as I said, this is all preliminary.”

      “Mind if we take a closer look?” Roper asked, straining to get a look at the site.

      “Not at all,” Professor Albright replied. “Come on over and I’ll show you our little baby.”

      For the next twenty minutes, Lanny Albright guided them around the periphery of his prized fossil, pointing out details, much of it too technical for Roper. Superficially, it didn’t look like much more than a slab of chiseled rock, but Lanny was obviously ecstatic. According to the professor, it was an adult male, approximately eight to nine feet tall, with a disparate three digits on

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