Wolcott LeCléar Beard

“ I am an average sort of man, I think, and therefore took myself as an example. I liked Hilda enormously. More than that, even in the few hours since first we met, I had formed a warm affection. But as to falling in love with her—well, I simply couldn't imagine myself in that position. It would be like falling in love with the Venus of Milo, or the Goddess of Liberty, or anything else that was unattainably big and beautiful, and though nominally feminine, still practically sexless.
But I understood what Hilda had meant when she spoke of the resemblance between herself and Honey. ”

“ A long-haired young artist—one whom I knew slightly as a visitor to Honey's house—picked up the object and weighed it in his hand. It was the section of shade-roller, run full of melted lead, that we had made for a crossbow bolt. I knew all along that it would be found there. The twang of that bowstring had told me so. But the wooden, lead-filled cylinder sent all others, the police included, far away on a false scent—and no wonder. Who could have guessed the truth?
"The man has been sandbagged!" shouted that excited young artist. "You could kill an ox with that thing. Is he dead, doctor?" ”

“ She has no more mind than a kitten. Yet men fall in love with her—go wild about her! Real men—men with brains, some of whom don't even particularly like her; for liking has nothing to do with loving. And Maisie collapses utterly at the feet of Harvey Priest, who loves nothing in the world except himself, who'd be tired to death of her in a week, but is willing to amuse himself for that week. ”

“ Harvey Priest reached over and plucked the taut bowstring, so that it gave forth a deep, resonant note. He put his foot on the string and pressed, then shook his head and smiled at the resistance it offered. Maisie giggled at this, though there was nothing in the world, that I could see, to giggle about.
Then Hilda stepped forward. Picking up the arblast, she slipped her foot into the stirrup at its muzzle-end and, stooping, grasped the bowstring with both hands. She tried to straighten—failed—tried again. The bow bent, ever so little.
"Don't!" I cried. "You'll hurt yourself!" ”

“ Still laughing, with his suspicions apparently at rest, Harvey counted out fifty dollars from a big roll of bills and placed the amount in the goddess's hand.
"Let's go to dinner," said he. "Where shall it be?"
"The usual place," answered the goddess decidedly. "You run along and take that gun to your rooms and then go to the restaurant. Maisie and I will meet you there."
To this proposition Maisie—which evidently was the owl-girl's name—assented with enthusiasm. Therefore she wriggled into a long coat which covered her bloomers and her upper gorgeousness. ”

“ Hilda does what she can. She can't do much more. At best Hilda's only a woman, and Maisie's beginning to balk. I tell you, there's no one but me. Me—whom Maisie trusts because I'm such a damned horror to look at that she can't conceive my love for her being other than pure. ”

“ I suppose you know that inside I'm just a man. A man—like you, it seems—with a collector's passion for arms—for weapons, and especially missile-throwing weapons. I love their history, their mechanism—their use, except when they're used to kill something. I can't bear to kill. Moreover, I have a morbid terror—inborn—prenatal, I suppose—of the sound of firearms. I dread the report of a gun infinitely more than I dread its bullet, Harvey Priest knows that—he's a sort of cousin of mine. That's why he made me fire that wheel-lock. He wants me to die. On account of Maisie. ”

“ He may not know it—he certainly won't acknowledge it for years to come—but he will be."
"May the devil fly away with his happiness!" I snapped. "How about yours?"
"I've taken what I wanted," she answered, with a sigh. "The rest is up to me, isn't it? But I doubt if there's much unmixed happiness in this world. Good-by, Doctor Jack; I won't see you again. Harvey and I are leaving for Grand Rapids. Good-by once more!"
She touched her cool lips to my forehead and went away. I also went away—back, from Honey's house to mine, and drew the bolt of the connecting door. ”

“ Again there came that whine of protest from the objectionable young man, now identified as Harvey Priest. Harvey's whine availed him nothing, however, even though it was backed by a little cry from the owl-girl. With a wave of her hand the goddess temporarily abolished them both and went serenely on.
"I fear we can't run to a trained nurse," said she, "but I think we can manage the rest. Harvey, how much does Honey ask for that gun you're going to buy?" ”

“ Every hour that passed served to increase my affection for a clean man, a great soul, housed in a body that was simply a living curse, and which soon must fail even as such.
In our love of ancient weapons, we met on the congenial ground of a common hobby. Honey was supposed to deal in them, but this was mostly pretense. He never would sell a really good specimen unless his collection boasted a better one. ”

“ Before me stood the most superb specimen of young womanhood that I have ever beheld. Very fair, with features of classical regularity, she was almost a giantess; yet her proportions must have approximated perfection as closely as human proportions ever can. ”

“ The owl-girl and the objectionable young man looked first at each other and then at the goddess. It was the goddess who answered. It seemed always to be she who answered. There was a hard, sneering little laugh on her beautiful lips as she spoke,
"Honey hasn't a relative or a nickel in the world," said she. "But don't fear, Doctor John Hamilton. Your fee will be paid. ”

“ I can whip most men in a fair fight, and on occasion I've done it. What brains I have are mostly man's brains. Men don't think of me as a woman but—unconsciously—as another man, just different enough from themselves to be interesting. ”

“ Then you can put in some of your spare time in taking care of poor old Honey. I'll help with the nursing, of course, and so will Maisie. But mostly me. We all of us love Honey, but I love him better than any of the others, I think. You see, we're so alike—in spots. ”

“ He isn't dead, nor likely to die."
What I now wanted to do was to get back to Honey. It seemed an interminable time before a policeman arrived on the scene. He rang for an ambulance, which also arrived in the course of time, bringing with it a cocky young medical student in a white jacket who took Harvey to St. Vincent's Hospital. Some of Maisie's girl friends took her away, laughing and crying at once, to their own quarters, wherever they might be. ”

“ It was an arblast—one of the military sort, intended for use against plate armor, Its bow, of solid steel, was wider and as thick as a small wagon-spring, though shorter. No unaided man was supposed to bend that bow. To accomplish this the crossbowmen of old used a small windlass that fitted, when required for use, over the butt of the weapon, and was operated by two cranks, one for each hand. It was a wonderful specimen. I was as enthusiastic concerning it as was Honey himself, and we must, I think, have behaved rather like two children.
Bowstring and windlass lines of course were missing ”

“ IN HONEY'S HOUSE
By Wolcott LeCléar Beard
BECAUSE I had been a captain-doctor in France, where inconsiderate Teutons injected some mustard-gas and a few bits of H.E. shell into my system, my uncle and only relative purchased for me the practice of old Doctor Jenkins, who was anxious to retire. These facts are here given because they serve to explain me and my domiciliary advent in Greenwich Village. My advent is of importance, so far as this story is concerned, only because it placed me in a position to narrate said story. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1937, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 86 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”