The Great Fossil Enigma (38 page)

That was a close call. With alarm bells ringing, Scott wrote a single sentence to Melton to seal any future leak: “I am impressed with the need for us to protect in any way possible the distribution of any pictures, sketches, or figures which will give anybody the opportunity to mess this matter up.” Over the coming months there would be frequent requests for reports and illustrations from encyclopedias and magazines. They refused them all.

In mid-November, Scott met with the
NSF
, which asked him to redraft the proposal, integrating Melton's appendix into the main body of the bid. Scott told Melton that “they encouraged me to believe that we could have anything that we requested within reason. The only item which I think might be questioned would be a new truck.” Scott now planned to join Melton in the field in the summer of 1970. Melton was already there and had turned up tiny objects he thought might be younger stages of the animal. Meanwhile, Scott continued to work on the technical details of their report. He told Rhodes that its assemblage and therefore its name was
Lochriea wellsensis.
This, of course, was the illegal terminology Scott had invented that, apparently outside Scott's field of vision, was already being disassembled by the likes of Bergström, Sweet, Lindström, and others. However, the final battle in that distant war had yet to be won. Scott wondered if the separate system he had invented might be carried throughout the classification. Perhaps Eichenberg's Conodontophorida could be kept for the isolated fossils, while his animals might be known and grouped by a separate system. The conodont animals might be known as Lochriates. Scott was perhaps aware that he was being led by his heart on this matter but asked Rhodes for his opinion all the same. Never once did he consider using Pander's “Conodonta.”. It was probably at Melton's suggestion that they considered calling the animal
Panderi Rhodesi
, but Scott thought that impossible.

As the animal was being shaped in Michigan, across the Atlantic Maurits Lindström was in the rather impossible position of writing a paper on the affinities of the conodont animal for the East Lansing meeting. Rhodes had just told him that Scott possessed “what must be very seriously considered the probable conodont animal.”
¹⁴
Lindström asked Scott for “inside information,” aware that he might, for good reasons, not wish to give it. Scott sent him the same few lines he had sent others. Although Lindström was not disappointed, it was hardly enough to help him. All he could do was work from the long-known fossils, telling Scott, “What you are telling me in your letter sounds quite fascinating and will no doubt create great sensation.” Scott, doubtless feeling the weight of expectation, now planned an “elaborate display including three-dimensional models” around which participants would engage in open debate about the animal. He never doubted that the animal would be accepted and that all would share in the triumph. He asked Rhodes if he might speak for longer so as to fully describe the animal. This was indeed to be a moment of sensation.

Scott and Melton's world was, however, enclosed and invisible. Beyond it, speculation about the animal continued, and it was not based on the specimens shown at the convention. Nevertheless, it was with some surprise that Scott read of an ongoing debate about the animal in the December issue of
Science.
This centered on some extraordinary photographs that had appeared in the magazine the previous January. Published by Rupert Riedl, a zoologist at the University of North Carolina, they showed conodont-like structures in poorly known animals called Gnathostomulida. These animals had previously been off the paleontologists' radar, but when they saw the pictures many immediately thought they saw a solution to the great mystery. Some wrote to Riedl, others to
Science.
Chris Durden at Texas Memorial Museum in Austin and John Rogers at Yale, for example, were quite convinced by the similarities. Perhaps conodonts belonged to the same group of animals? Durden imagined them as bottom-dwelling “worms,” the conodont elements forming the cores of papillae used to tear up algal mats and fungal hyphae. Both Durden and Rogers recognized that there were significant differences, particularly in size and chemistry, but were nevertheless convinced by the morphological similarities. Riedl was elated by the response and admitted that he too had pondered the conodont connection but felt unqualified to comment. Now he thought these imaginings justified, aided by Durden's reference to an obscure paper by Wetzel, published in 1933, that described Cretaceous “micro conodonts” from the Baltic.
¹⁵
Durden knew these were not truly conodonts, but for Riedl they were a missing link and he began working with Sam Ellison to explore the relationship further.

Scott felt compelled to respond. He did so as one who had “studied conodont assemblages since 1934” and as the “designer” of the name “scolecodont.” His authority established, he closed the debate: “I can assure you that there is no relationship between Gnathostomulida and conodonts, whether direct or indirect. They are not related in any manner.” He now turned Melton's puzzling animal into definitive evidence. It became an exclusive rod of office: “The reason I am so sure of this is that I have in my possession five whole conodont animals.”

Scott was firm but courteous. He copied his letter to Durden and Rogers. Durden, who had done some work on the matter, confirmed that these were different groups of animal and said that he and Rogers had simply wanted to stimulate debate. However, he thought the microconodonts might belong to Riedl's animals. Riedl responded to Scott's “most challenging letter,” equally courteously, enclosing a picture of the 1933 micro conodonts. Scott told him they were most likely the remains of worms. That was not, however, the end of the matter, as some months later, Serge Ochietti, of the Université du Québec, sent Scott a French-language article he had written with André Cailleux. They had also been inspired by Riedl's illustrations and proposed a link to conodonts. That the elements in question were composed of chitin (the material that makes up the skeleton of insects), were 25–250 times smaller than conodonts, grew differently, and came from animals that live in the interstices between sand grains in sediments did not seem to matter. They were convinced that nature could support such diversity without destroying the link. Scott wrote to Ochietti and in a sentence dismissed their claim. He had the animal and that was the end of it.

Meanwhile, Melton and his assistants were braving the Montana winter in the quarry, where a bulldozer had been of little help in making the conodont animals appear. He had just two animals and was now investigating the older sections of the quarry where the weathered shale split more easily. This move into a disused area might also have been a retreat from quarry politics, for the quarry owner, Charles Allen, had asked him for one thousand dollars to cover the disruption to his quarrying operations. Melton was told that someone from the University of Montana had offered him such a sum. Melton told Scott and this turned February 9, 1970, on its head. Was the project to be “messed up” here, on site? They had been blind to the possibility and, thinking the University of Montana story untrue, imagined that a private collector might be muscling in. Scott doubted Allen and felt there was dishonesty at play. Anyway, one thousand dollars was a large sum and could not be raised so easily. Scott also worried about the ethics of it all and considered withdrawing. It was a classic clash of cultures, of differing risks and rewards, of differing ways of doing things, and Melton and Scott simply could not see the world from Allen's perspective. Scott felt he was being asked to buy the specimens at an exorbitant rate. Besides, Scott did not yet have the
NSF
grant so little could be done but delay the payment, if a payment had to be made. Nevertheless, it raised the question of property and ownership, which caused Scott to draw up an agreement: “All fish fossils obtained from the quarry shall be given to and shall remain the property of
William Melton
the
University of Montana. All conodonts shall be given to and shall remain the property of Harold W. Scott, Michigan State University.” Melton deleted his own name. As a curator he could not compete with his institution. In contrast, Scott was willing to give up all other finds in order to be the personal beneficiary of the conodont animals. This action was not particularly unusual. Most conodont workers remained in possession of those materials they collected and studied. They would want to know if someone else wanted to examine these objects and perhaps draw other conclusions. Excluding others from studying the objects,
after
these workers had made their own views known, might be fairly objected to, but this was not the case here. Scott's intentions become clearer later on.

Scott's fretting over the payment made work in the quarry difficult. To break the deadlock, Melton gave Allen a down payment of $575 out of his own pocket. His department bailed him out for $200 of that. Melton explained to Scott, “It is a sticky situation and I don't particularly like it but feel obligated to finish it now that I have started on it.” Scott felt bad, and considered paying Melton, claiming it as the cost of a “bulldozer,” but he did not do so immediately. He had, however, “forced the issue” on Melton's master's degree and it had now been awarded. So at least the exuberant Melton might get a salary increase. But then Scott sent him $275. Melton was puzzled. Was this for the existing conodont animals? If so, he corrected Scott by pointing out that these belonged to the University of Montana. Melton asked Scott if he was planning to keep that material, but Scott explained that he simply needed a reason for paying a bill – for sending Melton money – as they could not pay themselves. It seems this was a bungled attempt to cover Melton's losses without admitting to it in the accounts. Scott said that he hoped in time the material would go to the National Museum.

Melton was not alone in the field. He was aided by Montana-born Jack Horner, a student not long returned from Vietnam who would later gain international celebrity as a dinosaur expert.
¹⁶
Jean Lower of Michigan State was also there and would soon be offered an assistantship to work on the fossils. There were volunteers from Iowa and a party of two from the University of Pittsburgh who were looking for fossil fish but had turned up a conodont animal. Scott remained attentive to Melton's needs while desperately trying to catch up with the conodont literature on classification. On this subject he had puzzled a great deal. Then, in March, he realized that he had two different assemblages and thus two species of the animal.

Scott was also starting to think about where their now completed paper would be published. He wrote to the Paleontological Research Institute, which published two major U.S. journals, selling the paper's significance and the need for copious illustration. “I do not believe that I am egotistical,” he said, “when I say to you that this is probably the most important paper ever prepared on conodonts. You may know that we have searched for this animal since 1856; and now that our search is realized, the paper deserves unusual attention in reference to publication.” He considered it “almost certainly [to] be the most referred to and possibly debatable paper of all conodont literature in the future.” The editor told Scott the paper would have to wait in line and that would mean that it would not be published until sometime in 1971. This level of delay was normal, but it was not unreasonable for Scott to think that a publisher might prioritize this paper simply to obtain it. As no such offer was forthcoming, Scott decided take his paper elsewhere. It was a decision that would cost him dearly.

Near the end of the month, Scott received a telephone call from the NSF. It was not the news he expected: The foundation was willing to pay him fourteen thousand dollars, half what he had requested. Scott told Melton to cut back; they would need to concentrate on excavation. Of that money, twelve thousand dollars was for fieldwork: two to three assistants for two months, one from Montana, one or two from Michigan; two rock saws; money for the “bulldozer” and “bulldozer” money for paying off the quarryman; truck rental; food and other necessities; and volunteers. Some money was also set aside for publication. The work would begin in June and run through July. Preparations now began, and Melton sent Scott photographs of the locality. When he saw them he was surprised and told Melton, “We may have to hire a man to use explosives.”