welcome to paul edmund norman's the gateway

Renny was stunned. No one else that they had met had seemed that well acquainted with Blackie White. Sally Morgan had not mentioned any special relationship between the gangster he was impersonating and Seven-Eleven McSwain.

Renny knew he’d have to play this one by ear.

“Maybe I’ll kill ya, and maybe I won’t,” he said menacingly. “How about you give me a reason?”

The big gambler, still on his knees, cringed. “Aw, jeez, Blackie, this is maybe the biggest game of the year. How could I miss this?”

“You tell me,” Renny said flatly. He was trying to draw McSwain out, to try and figure out what the gambler’s connection to the crime boss really was.

“Blackie, I know you want to keep us all isolated, but --” McSwain suddenly looked around, as though he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“You and I need to talk,” Renny said boldly. “But not here. Too many ears.”

“Gotcha, Blackie,” said McSwain. The gambler got up off his knees, and dusted himself off. “There’s are alley out back here,” he said, indicating a dim doorway at the rear of the garage.

“Sounds good,” Renny agreed. Things were working out swell. Seven-Eleven McSwain was voluntarily heading for an isolated spot where Renny could grab him and begin getting to the bottom of the mystery of the Steel Hammer.

They headed for the rear doorway, with Sally following. McSwain shot a curious glance at the girl.

He’s getting suspicious, Renny thought. He turned and growled gently to Sally, “You stay inside here and stay warm, Doll-Face. Man’s business.”

He turned and followed Seven-Eleven out the door. Better and better, Renny thought. He was going to put the bag on McSwain, and then ditch the pesky girl reporter, all at the same time. A rare grim crept over Renny’s rough features.

LONG TOM quickly filled Doc Savage in on what he had learned from Margaret Adams. “It’s the same story that Morgan dame gave Renny,” he finished.

“I understand,” Doc said. To Margaret Adams, he said, “How did your brother learn about submarine engineering in the first place?”

The brunette girl simply stared at Doc.

“Miss Adams?” he repeated.

The girl remained speechless. Doc had experienced this phenomena before. Young women would be overcome by the tremendous physical appearance the Man of Bronze presented. Some would even throw themselves at him. To these, Doc would have to explain that there was no place for romance in his life. His enemies would use any known female companion as a way to get at Doc.

“Miss Adams, please!” There was a commanding tone to Doc’s voice.

“Huh? Oh, excuse me,” the girl replied. “You were saying?”

“Your brother, Phil. Where did he gain his knowledge of submarines?”

“In the navy, during the war. He was a machinists mate. Then, after the war, he got civilian job working for the navy working at the big base at Norfolk. But they cut back two years ago, and he hadn’t had a job since until you hired him.” The girl stopped. “But I guess it wasn’t you that hired Phil, was it?”

“Someone has gone to a great deal of trouble to make people think I was hiring people, Miss Adams. I believe your brother has been innocently duped into their scheme. We are desperately searching for clues. Can you remember any details of letter your brother wrote to you?” Doc asked.

“I’m trying,” pleaded Margaret. “I really wish I could.”

“Do you see my watch, Miss Adams?” Doc asked quietly.

A bronze pocket watch, suspended from a chain, was swinging back and forth slowly in front of Margaret Adams face.

“Yes.”

“Please keep your eyes on it. See it swing back and forth?”

“Yes.”

“As you look at it, you will find that you are getting sleepy. When I count to three, you will fall into a deep, relaxing sleep. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“One. Two. Three.”

Margaret Adams was instantly asleep. Hypnotism had been part of Doc’s medical training. Not every person can be hypnotized, but Doc had realized that Margaret’s close interest in him made her an ideal subject.

“Can you hear me, Margaret?” Doc asked.

“Yes.” The girl’s voice was normal; not the fake, ethereal sound used often to depict hypnotized subjects in motion pictures.

“Do you remember the letter your brother Phil sent you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what the letter said?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what the letter said.”

The girl spoke normally and surely. “Dear Momma and Everybody. I got a job. It is a special project run by Doc Savage for war veterans. We are helping him. The pay is real good. I haven’t seen the big guy personally yet, but I am looking forward to it. I can’t tell you much about what we are doing cause it is one big secret, let me tell you. Hint, hint, I’m working on a new-fangled kind of the same thing I worked on in the navy. Don’t worry about me, cause I am fine. We are real good took care of, with plenty to eat. But is sure is cold up north here, and the damp tunnels play heck with my old sinus problem. Give everybody down on the farm a big hug from me. Love, Phil.”

“Submarines and tunnels!” exclaimed Long Tom. “What in blazes is going on here?”

“When I count to three, you will awaken,” Doc said to Margaret. “One. Two. Three.”

“I did remember, didn’t I!” Margaret burst out immediately. “But do you know what it means, Mr. Savage?”

Doc Savage sat motionless. But the low, trilling sound Doc made during periods of intense concentration filled the cabin of the plane.

IN CRAPS, a roll of seven is a “natural” -- an automatic winner. When the shooter rolls a seven, he wins.

When Renny Renwick stepped out into the alley after Seven-Eleven McSwain, he found himself on the losing side of a “natural”.

Waiting for him out in the alley were six of the ugliest toughs whose photographs had ever graced wanted posters. Not one of them was under six feet tall, not one was under two hundred pounds.

“Get him!” shouted McSwain, and the seven jumped the big engineer.

Without thinking, Renny lashed back. His huge fist shot out and laid two of his attackers low almost immediately. No time now to consider how McSwain had seen through his disguise; there were only the incredible seven-to-one odds to fight against.

It was a hopeless fight. But the darker the picture, the more near cheerful Renny became. A ghost of a smile almost came over his puritanical features.

In craps, a roll of a pair of ones is known as “snake eyes”.

It is a losing roll for the shooter.

Renny fought a valiant battle. He had fought against seven.

But the fight ended with only two men standing. Neither was Renny.

He had crapped out.