{"product_id":"2940013746435","title":"The Haunted Bell","description":"It was a thing, trivial enough, yet so strangely mystifying in its\u003cbr\u003ehappening that the mind hesitated to accept it as an actual occurrence\u003cbr\u003edespite the indisputable evidence of the sense of hearing. As the\u003cbr\u003eseconds ticked on, Franklin Phillips was not at all certain that it\u003cbr\u003ehad happened, and gradually the doubt began to assume the proportions\u003cbr\u003eof a conviction. Then, because his keenly-attuned brain did not\u003cbr\u003ereadily explain it, the matter was dismissed as an impossibility.\u003cbr\u003eCertainly it had not happened. Mr. Phillips smiled a little. Of\u003cbr\u003ecourse, it was--it must be--a trick of his nerves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut, even as the impossibility of the thing grew upon him, the musical\u003cbr\u003eclang still echoed vaguely in his memory, and his eyes were still\u003cbr\u003efixed inquiringly on the Japanese gong whence it had come. The gong\u003cbr\u003ewas of the usual type--six bronze discs, or inverted bowls, of\u003cbr\u003egraduated sizes, suspended one above the other, with the largest at\u003cbr\u003ethe top, and quaintly colored with the deep, florid tones of Japan's\u003cbr\u003eancient decorative art. It hung motionless at the end of a silken cord\u003cbr\u003ewhich dropped down sheerly from the ceiling over a corner of his desk.\u003cbr\u003eIt was certainly harmless enough in appearance, yet--yet--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs he looked the bell sounded again. It was a clear, rich, vibrant\u003cbr\u003enote--a boom which belched forth suddenly as if of its own volition,\u003cbr\u003equavered full-toned, then diminished until it was only a lingering\u003cbr\u003esense of sound. Mr. Phillips started to his feet with an exclamation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, in the money-marts of the world, Franklin Phillips was regarded\u003cbr\u003eas a living refutation of all theories as to the physical disasters\u003cbr\u003econsequent upon a long pursuit of the strenuous life--a human\u003cbr\u003eantithesis of nerves. He breathed fourteen times to the minute and his\u003cbr\u003eheart-beat was always within a fraction of seventy-one. This was true\u003cbr\u003ewhether there were millions at stake in a capricious market or whether\u003cbr\u003ehe ordered a cigar. In this calm lay the strength which had enabled\u003cbr\u003ehim to reach his fiftieth year in perfect mental and physical\u003cbr\u003econdition.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBack of this utter normality was a placid, inquiring mind; so now,\u003cbr\u003edeliberately, he took a pencil and tapped the bells of the gong one\u003cbr\u003eafter another, beginning at the bottom. The shrill note of the first\u003cbr\u003etold him instantly that was not the one which had sounded; nor was the\u003cbr\u003esecond, nor the third. At the fourth he hesitated and struck a second\u003cbr\u003etime. Then he tapped the fifth. That was it. The gong trembled and\u003cbr\u003eswayed slightly from the blow, light as it was, and twice again he\u003cbr\u003estruck it. Then he was convinced.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor several minutes he stood staring, staring blankly. What had caused\u003cbr\u003ethe bell to ring? His manner was calm, cold, quiet, inquisitive--\u003cbr\u003eindomitable common-sense inspired the query.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I guess it was nerves,\" he said after a moment. \"But I was looking at\u003cbr\u003eit, and--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNerves as a possibility were suddenly brushed ruthlessly aside, and he\u003cbr\u003esystematically sought some tangible explanation of the affair. Had a\u003cbr\u003eflying insect struck the bell? No. He was positive, because he had\u003cbr\u003ebeen looking directly at it when it sounded the second time. He would\u003cbr\u003ehave seen an insect. Had something dropped from the ceiling? No. He\u003cbr\u003ewould have seen that, too. With alert, searching eyes he surveyed the\u003cbr\u003esmall room. It was his own personal den--a sort of office in his home.\u003cbr\u003eHe was alone now; the door closed; everything appeared as usual.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerhaps a window! The one facing east was open to the lightly stirring\u003cbr\u003eair of the first warm evening of spring. The wind had disturbed the\u003cbr\u003egong! He jumped at the thought as an inspiration. It faded when he saw\u003cbr\u003ethe window-curtains hanging down limply; the movement of the air was\u003cbr\u003etoo light to disturb even these. Perhaps something had been tossed\u003cbr\u003ethrough the window! The absurdity of that conjecture was proven\u003cbr\u003einstantly. There was a screen in the window of so fine a mesh that\u003cbr\u003ehardly more than a grain of sand could pass through it. And this\u003cbr\u003escreen was intact.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith bewilderment in his face Mr. Phillips sat down again. Then\u003cbr\u003erecurred to him one indisputable fact which precluded the possibility\u003cbr\u003eof all those things he had considered. There had been absolutely no\u003cbr\u003emovement--that is, perceptible movement--of the gong when the bell\u003cbr\u003esounded. Yet the tone was loud, as if a violent blow had been struck.\u003cbr\u003eHe remembered that, when he tapped the bell sharply with his pencil,\u003cbr\u003eit swayed and trembled visibly, but the pencil was so light that the\u003cbr\u003etone sounded far away and faint. To convince himself he touched the\u003cbr\u003ebell again, ever so lightly. It swayed.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47070199087344,"sku":"2940013746435","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013746435_p0.jpg?v=1763589714","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013746435","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}