"I am convinced," Frank Merrill said meditatively, "we must go about
winning their confidence with the utmost care. One false step might be
fatal. I know what your impatience is though - for I can hardly school
myself to wait - that extraordinary phenomenon of the wings interests me
so much. The great question in my mind is their position biologically
and sociologically."
"The only thing that bothers me," Honey contributed solemnly, "is
whether or not they're our social equals."
Even Frank Merrill laughed. "I mean, are they birds," he went on still
in a puzzled tone, "free creatures of the air, or, women, bound
creatures of the earth? And what should be our attitude toward them?
Have we the right to capture them as ornithological specimens, or is it
our duty to respect their liberty as independent human beings?
"They're neither birds nor women," Pete Murphy burst out impetuously.
"They're angels. Our duty is to fall down and worship them."
"They're women," said Billy Fairfax earnestly. "Our duty is to cherish
and protect them."
"They're girls," Honey insisted jovially, "our duty is to josh and jolly
them, to buy them taxicabs, theater-tickets, late suppers, candy, and
flowers."
"They're females," said Ralph Addington contemptuously. "Our duty is to
tame, subjugate, infatuate, and control them."
Frank Merrill listened to each with the look on his face, half
perplexity, half irritation, which always came when the conversation
took a humorous turn. "I am myself inclined to look upon them as an
entirely new race of beings, requiring new laws," he said thoughtfully.
Although the quick appearance and the quick departure of the girls had
upset the men temporarily, they went back to work at once. And as though
inspired by their appearance, they worked like tigers. As before, they
talked constantly of them, piling mountains of conjecture on molehills
of fact. But now their talk was less of the wonder and the romance of
the situation and more of the irritation of it. Ralph Addington's unease
seemed to have infected them all. Frank Merrill had actually to coax
them to keep at their duty of patrolling the beach. They were constantly
studying the horizon for a glimpse of their strange visitors. Every
morning they said, "I hope they'll come to-day"; every night, "Perhaps
they'll come to-morrow." And always, "They won't put it over on us this
time when we're not looking."
But in point of fact, the next visit of the flying girls came when they
least expected it - late in the evening.