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Show v 1 - ADVENTURERS' CLUB "Fate Rings the Bell" By FLOYD GIBBONS Famous Headline Hunter. 7"OU know, boys and girls, there's no use denying it, a lot of your adventure stories almost turn a man into a fatalist. A fatalist, as you know, is a person who believes he will live "until his time comes," that is to say, nothing he does can change the "stars" which have already arranged for his particular fate in advance. I can't believe that theory of life myself. I'm inclined to believe that if you keep running in front of automobiles you are bound by the law of averages to get run over,- sooner or later. But you can't argue with a dyed-in-the-wool fatalist along those lines. He'll tell you that when you escape it's just not your time and when you get hit it IS your time. j All of which brings us to today's winner, Frederick Holt of Clearfield, Pa. Fred had such a narrow escape under such strange circumstances that about the only way you can explain it is by believing that his time had not come. If you're not a fatalist you will probably put it xiown to plain every day luck. I'd say it was a combination of both. Fred's first job at the age of fourteen was to sit in a hallway before the door of a certain oilice. Beyond that door was Fred's first boss a busy man who hired Fred to keep callers from disturbing him. Fred Is Buffer for Boss. Fred was the buffer and he says he turned away at least 99 per cent of the callers. He had a nice comfortable chair beside a big steam radiator radi-ator and could read or play checkers with himself or do anything he wanted to do providing he didn't let anybody slip by his watchful eye. There was one restriction, Fred says, upon which his job depended. He couldn't leave his post at any moment of the day. No pretext could excuse his absence for one second. He didn't mind that, he says. He had the only window in the spacious hall, where he sat, and could look out when he got tired reading. Except for a small telephone table at the other end of' the hall, there was no furniture. Fred could put his feet up on the hot radiator when it was cold and make himself at home as much as he wished. Following out his orders to the letter he paid no attention to anything else that might be going on around him. Ignores Telephone, but It's Agent of Fate. The telephone, at the far end of the hall, he ignored. No one seemed ever to use the thing anyway, and yet that telephone was destined to be the Instrument of Fate the instrument that would snatch him from a particularly dreadful and untimely end. Fred had been on the job two months when the fateful day arrived. He had never moved out of that dutiful chair of- his. No matter what happened around him, Fred had been true to his trust, and like a faithful watchdog had stayed put before the door of his employer. Radiator Good Company on Cold Day. This day was particularly cold and his side partner the steam radiatorwas radi-atorwas sizzling hot. The steam hissing through its pipes in front of him was sweet music to his chilly ears. He had a good book and there were few callers so what more could a fellow ask? As he glanced out of his frosty window, he could see less fortunate persons fighting their way against a wintry blast and he congratulated himself on the sense of duty that had kept him at his post and held his nice warm job for him. Suddenly an annoying sound grated on Fred's sensitive ears. It was that blame telephone at the other end of the hall. He let it ring. He should worry. He wasn't going to get up and answer it and then have some salesman slip in and annoy the boss. No sir-ree. He smiled, cocked his feet higher on the radiator, and went on reading. Ringing Telephone Annoys Fred. But that doggoned phone kept on ringing. It wouldn't stop. You'd think when a fellow didn't answer they'd stop ringing. But they didn't. "Ding-a ling-a ling," went the telephone! "Bang !" went Fred's warm feet off the sizzling radiator and he made for the other end of the hall. He figured he could answer the darn thing and be back before anyone noticed his absence. He made the hall in 10 jumps and grabbed the receiver. And as he did, Fred says, the bottom fell out of the world! The Bottom Falls Out of the World. Wham! A rush of air slammed him violently against the wall! Boom! A detonation like thunder shook the building under un-der his feet! He fell, like a log, to the floor! Cries came from the front ollice cries and dense clouds of live steam ! Windows crashed open I The agonized voice of his boss came to him crying cry-ing his name. , Suddenly the air cleared. Fred's boss appeared and hugged him joyously. joy-ously. Fred was amazed. Here he was getting hugged instead of getting fired ! He looked around and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. The Radiator Had Been Blown to Pieces. His easy chair was a mass of wreckage! The radiator was gone! Blown to bits! It had exploded and jagged fragments of iron protruded from the place on the wall WHERE FRED'S HEAD HAD BEEN FOR THE LAST TWO MONTHS! If that phone hadn't rung the boy would have been blown to pieces! Well, I'm not advising disobedience by any means, but, by golly, disobedience dis-obedience saved Fred's life that day. Or was it just "not his time?" WNU Service. |