THREE STRIKES AND RENNY'S OUT
Renny felt like an utter idiot.
Getting bopped on the head by a pretty girl was a foolish stunt that Monk might fall for, or even maybe Ham, but never Renny.
But it had. And now he was bound, gagged, and very uncomfortably stuck in the trunk of a car that was heading down a very bad road. There was the pain to random parts of his body as the car kept hitting bumps. There was the pain from having his six feet, four inch frame folded more than in half. But worse than either of these was pain of having fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book.
He’d been trying to get information from the patrolman, Wetzel, about the poison gas attack. As a Colonel of Engineers, Renny had plenty of action during the Great War, and a single glance at the pitiful remains of Dakota Pete was enough to convince him that the man was in fact a victim of poison gas. He’d followed Wetzel to the place where the police officer had been when the gas attack.
“... And then, with this big crackling noise, the whole river turned into a big cloud of gas,” Wetzel had said.
Renny was only half-listening to the man. He had only a basic engineer’s knowledge of chemistry, and was still trying to figure out by what process common river water could be transformed into a deadly poison. He didn’t see the girl come up behind him.
“Are you Doc Savage’s man?” came the feminine voice.
Renny turned and saw her, then -- young, blonde, pretty, carrying a monstrous purse at her side. “Who wants to know?” he rumbled.
“My name is Sally Morgan, and I want to know where my brother is!” the girl snapped.
“Holy Cow, lady, try the missing persons department,” Renny said, annoyed.
“My brother is working for Doc Savage, and I want to see him!” the girl demanded. “Those other policemen said you were Doc Savage’s assistant. Now I need to see my brother.”
“Listen, little Miss Sally Morgan,” Renny said, “I’ve got no idea about you brother, Mister...”
“Hank Morgan,” the girl supplied.
“... Mister Hank Morgan, and neither does Doc.” Renny knew this would be true. Although Doc’s good works were far-flung, he always worked anonymously so as to avoid publicity or endangerment of innocent lives.
“Now I’m really busy here, sister,” Renny continued, “so you need to go peddle your papers somewhere else.”
“He does so work for Doc Savage!” Sally Morgan said angrily. “We got a letter. He said Doc Savage had given him a job, the first he’d had in two years. That Doc was hiring lots of veterans and giving them jobs on one of his secret projects.”
“Which he then blabbed to you right away,” Renny said under his breath.
“Did not! the girl retorted. “The only reason I knew he was here was because the postmark on the letter read ‘Pittsburgh’, so I knew it was mailed from here. He said it was a big secret, but that it would probably be all over the news this week.”
“Eh?” Renny grunted. The only news out of Pittsburgh this week would be about a bizarre poison gas attack. And if Hank Morgan, allegedly working for Doc Savage, had some kind of advanced notice of the attack.... Renny suddenly looked at the girl sharply. Her eyes got wide, and she took a half step back.
“Just what’s the big hurry for you to get hold of your brother?” Renny asked, as he edged toward her.
“Oh, uh, Pa’s done taken sick real bad, and we need Hank at home on the farm.”
“Nuts to that news, sister. You’re no farm girl. Those duds of yours are big city, through and through.” The girl turned to run, but Renny caught here arm.
“Let me go, you big lug!” Sally yelled.
“No, I think I’ll have the cops hang onto you until Doc shows up. Then you and he can have a little talk about this brother of yours and the poison gas attack.” Renny began frog-marching the girl back towards the police command post.
Sally Morgan fought like a wildcat. She clawed, scratched, and kicked any part of Renny that she could reach.
“Holy Cow, you little heathen!” Renny exclaimed with exasperation. “Your coming with me. Conscious or unconscious, it doesn’t matter.”
Sally Morgan collapsed. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I don’t know what... I mean... I just...” and then she burst into tears.
Renny loosened his grip. “OK, come on now,” he said vaguely. Teary-eyed females were a mystery to him.
The girl sniffled, and then nodded her head. “Whatever you say,” she said dejectedly.
They took two more steps towards the command post, and then Sally said, “ I dropped my purse back there.” Renny saw the big black bag laying on the ground, and retrieved it for her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I must look a sight! Give me a minute to fix myself up.” She fumbled opening the purse.
Women, thought Renny. One minute crying and fighting to beat the band, and the next worrying about their make-up. He had his head turned, and he never saw Sally Morgan take the foot-long length of lead pipe out of her purse, and bring it down on his skull.
The blow would have felled any ordinary man, but Renny managed to catch his balance and turn, so that he did see the lead pipe as Sally brought it down the second time. Then he saw no more.
Now, hours later, tied up in the trunk of a car heading who knew where, he counted three bumps on his head. So the girl had given him one more for good measure.
“IT WAS an education being in the operating room with you, Doctor Savage.” The speaker generally acknowledged to be the finest surgeon in Western Pennsylvania. He himself had been called to the Veteran’s Hospital to consult with the doctors there about the poison gas cases. But once there, he quickly deferred to the expertise of Doc Savage.
Doc’s innovation in treating a person afflicted with poison gas involved treating the lungs with his own healing gas. This gas was administered to the patient through a breathing tube. Doc had brought a small supply his special gas with him, and he had set the hospital’s pharmacy staff to work preparing additional doses.
The quickness with which the healing gas was delivered was the key to restoration of lung tissue. In this case, with Doc’s quick arrival, he expected most of the three dozen patients to make a full recovery. Of the four most seriously injured, he had already dictated recovery treatment plans while he was doing surgery.
“Is there anything we can provide, Doctor Savage?” asked the hospital’s chief administrator.
“There were three gas victims brought here who were dead on arrival,” Doc said. quietly. “Please have your senior pathologist conduct the autopsies, and have him look for traces of these chemicals.” Doc quickly jotted down several complex chemical formulas on a sheet of paper.
“We’ll do that. What about the Coroner’s Office? The other bodies were taken directly there.”
“Yes, please give them that information as well.” Doc paused, “Do you know how many bodies were taken to the Coroner?” Doc asked.
“Six,” the man replied.
A strange look came over Doc’s face. A low trilling sound filled the room. It was a noise Doc made unconsciously whenever he came across something that truly amazed him.
“Thank you for allowing me operating privileges here,” Doc told the hospital officials.
“We were able to learn so much just from watching your procedures,” the chief administrator replied.
But Doc was already gone. Tearing off his surgeon’s operating gown, he strode down the hallway looking for Sergeant Rayburne and the squad car too take him back to the river bank.
WHEN Doc arrived at back at the police command post, Monk and Ham were arguing.
“Every witness says the cloud came from the river, you hammerhead,” Ham stated coolly. “Are you incapable of seeing the logic of the situation?”
“I’ll situation you one,” squealed Monk.
“What’s going on?” asked Doc.
Both men immediately reported.
“All the witnesses say the cloud of gas came from the river,” said Ham. “It was accompanied by a crackling noise at first, and then by a screaming noise. There was a big cloud of yellow-green gas that reached about five blocks into the downtown area before it dissipated.”
“But it ain’t the river, Doc,” Monk chimed in. “Even with the small analysis kit from the plane, I can tell you that there’s nothing in the river water but good old aitch-two-oh and the usual industrial pollutants. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.”
“But every witness said the gas came out of the river,” reminded Ham.
“Witnesses? Hell, you got a witness that says men from outer space robbed a bank!” Monk exploded. “And besides that, we ain’t even told Doc that most important thing.” he stopped, and then continued in a rare, serious voice. “Doc, Renny’s disappeared!”
