多功能英语阅读08 Harry's Dilemma（在线收听）

Harry's Dilemma

Young Harry and old Bill were armored car guards. They'd been covering the

same route for over three years now. Today would be different. They were scheduled

to transport a large sum from Ohio National Savings & Loan Bureau, the

headquarters, to its new Riverside branch.

When Bill pulled the car up in front of the headquarters around an intersection,

Harry got out and opened the rear door with his key, then strolled into the

bank while Bill remained by the rear of the car.

In a few minutes, Harry came out accompanied by the bank manager, each

carrying a rectangle briefcase with padlocked staples. No one noticed the

longhaired man in a brown jacket get out of a motel and approach the armored

car until it was too late.

The man, a robber to the core who had been convicted of a criminal offence

previously, pulled a 45 automatic from beneath his coat and opened fire, killing

old Bill and the bank manager instantaneously. Quickly, he picked up one of the

money briefcases in his free hand and with his pistol intimidated Harry toward

his own car.

After Harry had tossed his briefcase into the back of the car as directed,

the man took Harry's pistol and told him to get down on the floor of the passenger's

side. The man tossed his briefcase in and got behind the wheel, driving the car

away from the bank and down the street.

Trembling, crouched up in a bulb, Harry affirmed he was about to die. He

murmured a short, heartfelt pray, hoping against hope that the man would let

him go.

After what seened an eternity, Harry felt the car turn dramatically and begin

bouncing along what must have been a dirt road full of twists and turns. The man

must be a reckless driver. He could hear the scrapping of shrubs or branches against

the sides of the car. Then the car came to a terminal stop as one of its tyres

busted and the car almost overturned.

"All right, out!" The man said in an imperative voice. "Don't try anything

stupid or I'll make your life a misery."

Harry was mute; he watched, putting hands on his head, determined to conform to

his demands to minimize the chance of getting hurt as the man pulled out

the briefcases of money and chucked them on the ground. They were somewhere in

the country concealed by bushes and towering trees. There was the occasional faint

sound of an insect buzzing by, and nobody could be seen within a radius of one

mile. The man knelt down, cut open the briefcases with a switchblade.

Harry's eyes widened as piles of green hundred dollar bills, neatly bundled,

and were shaken out onto the thick blanket of forest grass. For the first time in

his life Harry felt a bud of greed.

The man glanced at Harry, and, as if reading his mind, grinned.

"Nice, isn't it? Must be near four million dollars here. Ironic, isn't it. Here

we are working hard to pay our bills and living like peasants while the rich have all

this. Don't seem fair, does it? Ah, well, it doesn't matter for you," the man said

rising slowly to his feet. "Cause where you're going you won't need any money."

Harry would have begged, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.

The man pointed his gun at Harry's head, but just as he started to pull the

trigger, an insect buzzed him throwing his aim off. It was Harry'slast chance.

The shot went wild. Harry leapt forward, like the eruption of a volcano, sending

the man to the ground. They struggled violently, cursing, grasping, and groaning.

Then another shot punctuated the air with a snap. The man lay dead.

Harry stood, shaken, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. When he had

calmed down some, he sat down on a nearby log staring at the dead man, then at

the large pile of money.

He could do the right and return the money to the bank, get a pat on the

back, and continue working at his boring job, talking orders like a lackey, always

in debt and wondering how he would be able to pay for emergencies, medical bills,

etc... Or he could keep the money and live the kind of life he had always dreamed

of living. A life of luxury, traveling to exotic places, the best foods, the finest

clothes, a mansion on a lush hill overlooking the ocean... And abouve all to have

the respect of others which only money can bring.

Hard choice. But Harry make it.

He did the money beneath a pile of rocks, then loaded the body into the car

and drove to a jeep lane he was familiar with, that led to an isolated spot, miles

from anywhere, and dumped it into the deep end of a reservoir behind a huge dam.

When questioned by authorities, Harry told them the kidnapper had let him

out on the side of a road underneath an overpass when he no longer needed a hostage.

It was a miracle, everyone said, that the obscene man hadn't killed him.

"Bang", Harry fell to th ground with his daydream. He was killed.