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Polaris, v. 2, issue 2, June 1941
Page 14
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14 IT WOULDN'T WORK by Bob Tucker "Aw, heck!" a complaining voice from the clearing announced. "Aw heck! Aw heck!" A tall oldish woman stepped softly out of the fringe of trees and regarded the hecker with mild puzzled eyes. the newcomer was slim and pale and garbed in a green that merged easily with the trees she had just quitted; almost, but not quite, for her small feet did not carry her far into the open space. She poised for instant flight, and then brought down the heel of her foot. A twig snapped, purposely, and out in the center of the clearing the other whirled, dropping a blood red object in his sudden fright. "What're you doing there?" he flung at her. "Watching you --" the queer woman smiled at him. "--for hours. And you...?" He darted a look behind and around her before answering. "Are you alone?" Suspicious eyes searched the foliage. "Quite." A tiniest motion with her head. "I live...near here. Alone. Seldom does anyone come here. That is what aroused my curiosity in you. I haven't had...visitors...in a long while." Reassured, and not a little ashamed at his timidity, the visitor stooped to retrieve the bright red object, a small book bound in gleaming buckram. Brushing it free of the summer dust he held it out to her -- LE WERE-WOLF A Study in Lycanthropy She smiled ever so slightly as she read the title. "I know what you're thinking," he interpreted her face. "I'm crazy, or superstitious, or childish. Well, I'm not, really! Rather it's just the opposite that is true. I don't believe in this sort of thing. I study the occult, the dark arts. I am tremendously interested in, ah, vampires -- nymphs -- dryads -- werewolves -- and things. It's a sort of hobby, you know." He faltered. She smiled an invitation to continue. "I like to think myself a...researcher. A delver into mythology and its allied subjects. This book --" waving it around in the air, the low sun glinting on its shining surface "--this book sets forth a method or recipe (as it terms it) for becoming a werewolf. It was, ah...testing it, so to speak, when you, ah,...entered." "May I...?" she stretched forth a slim and colorless hand. There followed a short period of silence between the two as the tall woman leafed through the pages of the little volume, scanning a paragraph here and a whole page there, missing nothing withal, until at last she handed it back with a profound little sigh, meaning much. "Where did you get this?" "At the public library," the hobbyist researcher said surprisingly. "I realize that that is the oddest place for a book of this sort to be, but there I found it. Here...see..." and he
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14 IT WOULDN'T WORK by Bob Tucker "Aw, heck!" a complaining voice from the clearing announced. "Aw heck! Aw heck!" A tall oldish woman stepped softly out of the fringe of trees and regarded the hecker with mild puzzled eyes. the newcomer was slim and pale and garbed in a green that merged easily with the trees she had just quitted; almost, but not quite, for her small feet did not carry her far into the open space. She poised for instant flight, and then brought down the heel of her foot. A twig snapped, purposely, and out in the center of the clearing the other whirled, dropping a blood red object in his sudden fright. "What're you doing there?" he flung at her. "Watching you --" the queer woman smiled at him. "--for hours. And you...?" He darted a look behind and around her before answering. "Are you alone?" Suspicious eyes searched the foliage. "Quite." A tiniest motion with her head. "I live...near here. Alone. Seldom does anyone come here. That is what aroused my curiosity in you. I haven't had...visitors...in a long while." Reassured, and not a little ashamed at his timidity, the visitor stooped to retrieve the bright red object, a small book bound in gleaming buckram. Brushing it free of the summer dust he held it out to her -- LE WERE-WOLF A Study in Lycanthropy She smiled ever so slightly as she read the title. "I know what you're thinking," he interpreted her face. "I'm crazy, or superstitious, or childish. Well, I'm not, really! Rather it's just the opposite that is true. I don't believe in this sort of thing. I study the occult, the dark arts. I am tremendously interested in, ah, vampires -- nymphs -- dryads -- werewolves -- and things. It's a sort of hobby, you know." He faltered. She smiled an invitation to continue. "I like to think myself a...researcher. A delver into mythology and its allied subjects. This book --" waving it around in the air, the low sun glinting on its shining surface "--this book sets forth a method or recipe (as it terms it) for becoming a werewolf. It was, ah...testing it, so to speak, when you, ah,...entered." "May I...?" she stretched forth a slim and colorless hand. There followed a short period of silence between the two as the tall woman leafed through the pages of the little volume, scanning a paragraph here and a whole page there, missing nothing withal, until at last she handed it back with a profound little sigh, meaning much. "Where did you get this?" "At the public library," the hobbyist researcher said surprisingly. "I realize that that is the oddest place for a book of this sort to be, but there I found it. Here...see..." and he
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