Shakedown

The Whistler. Now the Whistler's strange story. Shaped down. Marty Lindquist, lifeguard, sat on the sands in front of the Swank Beach Club on Pelican Bay. It was a cold gray morning, and he huddled in his bathrobe, counting the days until his next paycheck.

His eyes swept over the deserted beach. He hated the slack season the dull months, the time between. board women who wanted swimming lessons companionship women who found him attractive and had money to spend as Heroes to his feet and started for the locker rooms a voice reached him a voice from the veranda

Marty turned and saw the owner of the Pelican Bay in motioning to him Moments later Marty walked into the office of his employer small dapper Harry Evan sure mr. Evans down. Thanks. What in the day is it?

Small boat warnings are down. Yes, it will clear them all. It's January for sure. Anybody on the beach yesterday? They'd know. Well, it's been foggy. Cold for swimming. It'll be that way for a long time yet.

I've been thinking, Lindquist, I may have to let you go. Wait a minute, Mr. Evans. Business can't be that bad. In those pretty well-eatings, this has nothing to do with business. business. Oh what is it then that girlfriend of yours was it her idea let's leave Miss Johnson out of it shall we take my advice I said that's enough okay your

problem you're a great one to hand out advice Linquist all you ever think about his women I can get money out of this one find an angle with that one you never worked an almost in your life don't worry about me I got I do I know and that's one reason why you're likely to lose your job here unless you straighten out on a