Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Nuts to wild talents! Mine was no satisfaction, never earned me a penny—and now it had me fighting for my life in ... THE LITTLE RED BAG By JERRY SOHL I slid my eyes past her to others. A crossword-puzzle worker, a togetherness-type-magazine reader. for, and not wanting to. that sounds bad. It wasn't. I'd been doing it for years and nobody ever complained. It started when I was a kid, this business of being able to explore the insides of things like purses and sealed boxes and locked drawers and—well, human beings. But human beings aren't worth the trouble. electric wires. They hurt. Now don't ask me how Maybe you think it's fun. For the most part, it really isn't. I always become pretty good at guessing. and coins. Not much else. I was a little disappointed. I've run across a gun or two in my time. But I never say anything. I learned the wisdom of keeping my mouth shut in the fourth grade when Miss Winters, a stern, white-haired disciplinarian, ordered me to eat my sack lunch in the classroom with her instead of outside with some her favorite mechanical pencil, asking if any of us had seen it, and she was out of the room, so I probed the contents of her purse, which Since then I've kept quiet. At one time I assumed everybody was able to sense. I've known better for years. Still, I wonder how many other people are as close-mouthed about their special gift as I am about mine. I used to think that some day I'd make a lot of money out of it, but how? I can't read thoughts. I can't even be sure what some of the things I sense in probing really are. window. And I can stop clocks. seems all I did during the night was feel my way past the escapement pawl and the notch. So I sighed and moved to the balance wheel and its delicate ribbon of spiraling steel. I hung onto the wheel, exerting can't stand the alarm. When I first learned to do this, I thought I had it made. I even went to Las Vegas to try my hand, so to speak, with the ratchets and pawls and cams and springs on the slot machines. But there's nothing delicate about a slot machine, and the spring tensions are too strong. I dropped quite a lot of nickels before I finally gave up. So I'm stuck with a talent I've found little real use for. Except that it amuses me. Sometimes. Not like this time on the plane. Soon the stewardesses would bring coffee and doughnuts around, so I contented myself with looking at the clouds and trying to think about Amos Magaffey, who was purchasing agent for a Los Angeles amusement chain, and how I was going to convince him our printing prices were maybe a little higher but the quality and service were better. My mind electrician's tape. Interested and curious, I explored the clock more the train of gears to the alarm wheel. If this was anything like my own thought: Which one of these.... No, none of them would know it was But of course that had been the plan! My heart was beating in jackhammer rhythm my mouth was dry and my mind think I put it there. Besides, what good would it do? There would be panic and they'd never get the plane down in time—if they believed me. doughnut, paper spoon, sugar and dehydrated cream envelopes, and a napkin. I goggled at her, managed to croak, "No, thanks." She gave me an odd I closed my eyes, forced my mind back to the luggage compartment, spent balance wheel, just as I stopped my alarm clock every morning. I tried to close everything off—the throb of engines, the rush of air, the to be able to stop it. Maybe I could convince them I could stop a clock—but not before the bomb exploded. And then what? My secret would be out and my life would be changed. I'd be a man not to be trusted, a prying man, a man fits, but I didn't. It was only a few minutes to landing, but they became the longest minutes of my life as time after time I stopped the rocking wheel when the plane dipped and bumped to a landing. clock. The escapement was clicking vigorously. I didn't moan this time. I just closed my eyes, stretched toward and grabbed the balance wheel I was getting to know like my own. I entered into a union with it so strong that after I had reduced it to immobility, it was like waking when I opened my eyes. "Thanks," I said, taking it. I glanced ever so casually toward the remaining bag. "One left over, eh?" "Yeah." He was so bored I was tempted to tell him what was in it. But he was eying me with a "well-why-don't-you-get-along?" look. I said, "What happens if nobody claims it?" through my head as to why it should still be there, and none satisfied me. I should not have been there, that much I knew man named Amos Magaffey on Sixth Street at ten o'clock, discussing something very mundane, the matter of a printing order. But what could I do? If I left the airport, the attendant would eventually take the live with myself. No. I had to stay to keep the balance wheel stationary until—until what? tell him. I could take him down to the little red bag and explain the whole thing. Then it would be his baby and I would be off on my own business. inside in time to see him enter through a side door and deposit the bag clock again. "No. I'm waiting for someone." escaped my grasp. "Do you have my suitcase?" restrained myself. or anything else right now if it had. knew. At the same time I was wondering why anyone would want to kill someone so lovely. don't ask me why." but—" I didn't listen for the rest. I went into the booth, closed the door, pretended to drop a coin and dial a number. But all the time I was in there, I was reaching out through the glass for the clock. At this range it wasn't difficult to stop the balance wheel. "Gladly. Let me buy you a cup of coffee and I'll explain." the short, fat man into the coffee shop. Over coffee I explained it all to her, how I had this extrasensory ability, how she was the first person I had ever revealed it to, and how I had discovered what was in her overnight bag. "My husband." I thought she was going to really bawl, but she got control again. "This trip was his idea, my coming down here to visit my sister." Her smile was bleak. "I see now why he wanted to put in those books. I'd finished packing and was in the bathroom. He said he'd put must have put the—put it in there." I said gently, "Why would he want to do a thing like that?" thinking it over and that the only way out seemed to be to tell the because she knew she hadn't packed a clock. It wasn't good, but it would have to do. "We've got to get it deactivated," I said, watching the fat man pay for his coffee and leave. "The sooner the better." I asked her why she didn't claim the bag at the same time the other "See anybody go out of here with a little red bag and an old battered suitcase?" "Bag? Suitcase?" he mumbled. Then he became excited. "Why, a man just redcap, who said, "That man steal them suitcases?" parking lot. Redcap said, "Better tell him about it." "I—I don't care about mine. I didn't have much of anything in it." "Well," the policeman said, "I can't

<question>:
Why doesn't the narrator use his powers to win at slot machines?

<options>:
A He did use his powers to win at slot machines. He got himself banned from casinos.
B He thought about using his powers to win at slot machines but then decided it was too risky. He was afraid of getting caught.
C The mechanical workings of the slot machines are too difficult for him to control.
D He did use his powers to win at slot machines for a while. Then he became addicted to gambling and had to join Gamblers Annonymous.

<answer>:

C