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squirrel my daughter out from under my eyes. Why don t you bend that fine brain to something constructive? Mr. Mooney, I Lansing, you re nothing but an inept social climber who is playing in the wrong league. Why don t you leave quietly, you son of a fire claim adjuster? Now see here You see here, Lansing. Get out! Father, Bill Lansing is guest, and I my You go to your room, and stay there, young missy! Bill Lansing was your guest, past tense. No progress, just water? Well, fathers have been pouring cold water over hot romances for a couple of thousand years, too. So get! * * * * Bill Lansing s return to his station was a doleful journey. It was late at night; or, more accurately, it was very early in the morning. Cramme and jostling were the night people of the city. Some were tired, some were bored. Not were dozing in their subway seats. There were many couples engrossed with their own business, to the point where they cared little for their surroundings. But if there was on could be as unhappy and frustrated with helpless rage and utter futility as Bill Lansing, could not be known. For Lansing had no one to tell, no sympathetic ear to listen. But if Bill Lansing thought that he had been kicked as low as any man could be kicked, he found that he had one more bitter blow awaiting him at the station. He was h just inside of the door by Fire Commissioner Edwards. Lansing, I have a complaint against you. A complaint, sir? Yes. Did you, or did you not imply that you were taking Gloria Lansing to a danc that in reality was non-existent? Lansing gulped. It was a loaded question. In reality, the plan had simply been to Fire Chief Mooney s reaction to Gloria going out on a late date with her. It had been Gl spur-of-the-moment picking, not his, that chose the dance. Bill could no more tell the commissioner that they were testing Mooney s reaction than he could permit himself to place the blame on Gloria. Neither was the act of a gentleman and a fire fighter; furthe he was at fault, anyway, because the code of the fire fighter demanded that he correct erroneous impression that Gloria might have given. But Bill Lansing had no doubt at all that the commissioner knew the entire story a close as Mooney could repeat it. For the commissioner s word had been imply, and t meant that Gloria s statement had been undersigned, or in this case, underspoken, by Lansing. Yes, he said. This has been an unfortunate experience for all of us, Lansing. I hope it s over. know the penalty of the Academy of Fire Fighters for permitting an implied untruth to s Yes. While you are relieved of all duty and responsibility, you may not leave your stat until the Board of Fire Regents accepts your resignation officially. And if there is a fire in the interim, sir? While every hand is needed at a fire, Lansing, our code is our protection. It is cl No one who has not the full confidence of the Academy of Fire Fighters may have the of joining us in our chosen profession. But, sir The commissioner eyed Lansing coldly, and in a sepulchral intonation, he said, have been weighed in the balance, and found wanting. It was the traditional phrase of cold dismissal from the Academy. The phrase wa indeed, a translation of the handwriting on the wall. * * * * V With absolutely nothing to do but eat, sleep, and kill the waking hours, because those w surround you will not speak nor admit they heard you, time hangs heavy indeed. It was worse when your cell cannot be left. It is even worse than that when you, a they, and everybody knows that the process of separating you from your tomb could b expedited in ten minutes if anybody gave a tinkle. But the Academy of Fire Fighters wa thoroughly finished with Mr. Bill Lansing; so completely finished with him that its memb wouldn t lift a finger to get rid of him. To them, he had ceased to exist. To place action before the treadmill brought his card to the top was to recognize that such a person ha rights. And it might have gone that way, right on out until Bill Lansing s life turned a corne and became part of another world of activity. But a new world was not to be for Bill Lansing. Clotho, the Fate who weaves the of men, discovered the bowline, the knot that makes the closed loop which will not slip this she tied into her web. Call it fate. Call it coincidence. Call it anything you care to; but accept, even thoug reluctantly, the fire that flared up in the cellar of Fire Chief Mooney s home at one o clo the morning. The alarm clangored through the station, alerting the firemen, the rookies, and th nearly-ex-rookie Bill Lansing. Next came the stentorian voice: Now hear this! The address is one seven nine, three nine six four Rushman Ave in the Watchung area, near the metropolitan shopping area of Mountainside. The weat clear. Temperature seventy-one, humidity fifty-three, wind from the southwest at ten. T time is one zero seven hours. Near him, Lansing heard someone mutter, And the New York theater crowd will be getting home, too! In answer, the fire sub-chief said, Right, Al. Look, you and Pete are temporarily detached. Get out there right now and plant traffic stoppers. Go now; we ll bring your fi gear in the equipment wagon. Right, Chief. But won t that leave you short-handed? We ll make out. Lansing said, I volunteer. For the first time in three weeks, Lansing got a reply. We don t accept outsiders was the cold response. Might as well use me, said Lansing. I m going anyway. Not in any fire wagon this station uses! [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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