Angel Island

"Well, damn you and your beaux yeux!" said Ralph. There was a real

chagrin behind the amusement in his voice.

"Did you notice the muscular development of her back and shoulders?"

Frank Merrill asked eagerly.

"No," said Honey regretfully, "I don't seem to remember anything but her

face."

The next morning when they were working, Pete Murphy suddenly yelled in

an excited voice, "Here comes one of them!"

Everybody turned. There, heading straight towards them, an unbelievable

orange patch sailing through the blue sky, flew the "plain one."

"Lulu! Lulu! Here I am, Lulu," Honey called in his most coaxing tone and

with his most radiant smile. Lulu did not descend, but, involuntarily it

seemed, she turned her course a little nearer to Honey. She fluttered an

instant over his head, then flew straight as an arrow eastward.

"She's a looker, all right, all right," Ralph Addington said, gazing as

long as she was in sight. "I guess I'll trade my blonde for your

brunette, Honey."

"I bet you won't," answered Honey. "I've got Lulu half-tamed. She'll be

eating out of my hand in another week."

They found this incident exciting enough to justify them in laying off

from work the rest of the afternoon. But they had to get accustomed to

it in the week that followed. Thereafter, some time during the day, the

cry would ring out, "Here's your girl, Honey!" And Honey, not even

dropping his tools, would smile over his shoulder at the approaching

Lulu.

As time went by, she ventured nearer and nearer, stayed longer and

longer. Honey, calmly driving nails, addressed to her an endless,

chaffing monologue. At first, it was apparent she was as much repelled

by the tools as she was fascinated by Honey. For him to throw a nail to

the ground was the signal for her to speed to the zenith. But gradually,

in spite of the noise they made, she came to accept them as dumb,

inanimate, harmless. And one day, when Honey, working on the roof,

dropped a screw-driver, she flew down, picked it up, flew back, and

placed it within reach of his hand. She would hover over him for hours,

helping in many small ways. This only, however, when the other men were

sufficiently far away and only when Honey's two hands were occupied. If

any one of them - Honey and the rest - made the most casual of

accidental moves in her direction, her flight was that of an arrow. But

nobody could have been more careful than they not to frighten her.