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"Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh
page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one,
according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird
himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the
things that were and are past."
-- Henry Ward Beecher
DOC SAVAGE - THE STEEL HAMMER
by Dave Taggart
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE REAL BLACKIE WHITE
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The Real Blackie
White No police officer had ever visited Paulson Orchards. There was no reason. The small apple orchard located in the “thumb” of Michigan, about seventy-five miles north of Detroit was an ordinary looking place. That made it the perfect criminal hideout. The owner, “Apples” Paulson, had provided refuge for his brother-in-law, a noted Mid-Western bank-robber. Word had spread, and now Paulson Orchard was one of the best-kept secrets of the underworld, providing a secure hideout for wanted men -- at a price of a hundred dollars a day. Following careful directions from Seven-Eleven McSwain, Wheels pulled the getaway car containing the captive Renny into the orchard when it was almost dawn. Driving past the carefully ordered rows of apple trees, he came to a stop in from of what appeared to be an apple storage barn. In reality, the building housed a dormitory for wanted criminals, and meeting rooms in which they could plan future crimes. “Keep an eye on him, boys,” commanded McSwain, as his thugs cragged Renny out of the car. “You’ve all heard how tricky this guy can be.” He disappeared into the apple barn. Tied hand and foot, Renny lay on the ground with his eyes closed. He had become conscious over an hour earlier, but was keeping quiet, hoping to learn more information about the Steel Hammer gang. Seven-Eleven McSwain was gone inside the building for about ten minutes. Then the door opened, and he stepped out, followed by another man. The man walked over to where Renny lay, grabbed him by the hair on his head, and pulled his face close. “Wake up, Savage,” the man growled. Renny opened his eyes. It was like looking in a mirror. He was facing the real Blackie White. “How’d you tumble onto us, Savage?” Blackie asked. Renny said nothing. Somehow the crooks were convinced that he was in fact Doc Savage in disguise. Renny was going to let them go on thinking that. It would give Doc time to take his own actions to stop the gang. “The guy really is a master of disguise,” said Seven-Eleven. “If I hadn’t known it couldn’t have been you, I would’ve been fooled.” “Yeah, for once your stupid way of not being able to follow orders really paid off,” Blackie said. He looked closely at Renny’s disguised face. “Somebody get me a flashlight,” he suddenly ordered. The thin light of dawn was not giving Blackie enough light to see by. A flashlight was produced. Blackie White shined in intently on Renny’s disguised face. “Doesn’t Doc Savage have golden-colored eyes?” he asked. There was general agreement. Blackie let go of Renny’s hair, and let him fall to the ground. “Then this guy ain’t him,” he said disgustedly. THE FIRST person Monk met when he landed in Detroit was Ham Brooks. “You over-dressed fashion-plate! What are you doing here?” demanded Monk. “I thought Doc told you to go to Buffalo.” “Change in plans, King Kong Junior,” Ham replied. “Doc radioed me to rent a plane and come here before you all left Cleveland. And he sent me another quick message before he bailed out of your plane over Toledo.” Amid much noise and threat of bodily harm, if not actual physical dismemberment, the two filled each other in on the details of the case. “...and so I let Johnny, Long Tom, and Margaret Adams out at the airport in Toledo, and headed straight here,” Monk concluded. “Now you can help me convince the Detroit Police and the Michigan National Guard to start poking around in the city parks.” “That out to be a snap, compared what he asked me to do.” “What’s that?” “Chase down a submarine. On dry land.” ONE OF Seven-Eleven McSwain’s henchmen recalled hearing rumors that Doc Savage employed thin lens of glass, inserted onto the eyeballs, in order to change their color. After much poking and prodding of Renny’s eyes, they determined that their prisoner was not in fact Doc Savage. Exactly who he was, and what he had been doing, impersonating Blackie White remained at mystery, since Renny remained grimly silent during a series of kicks, punches, and threats about what might be done to make him talk. While this was going on, nobody noticed that the driver, Wheels, had slipped away into the apple barn. The large man made a quick yet thorough tour of the building. There was nothing there. Blackie White had been the only member of the gang at Paulson Orchards. A low, trilling sound filled a small corner of the apple barn. For Wheels, Seven-Eleven McSwain’s huge drive, was in fact Doc Savage! DOC HAD arrived by parachute while Renny had still been inside the Elite Auto Garage with Sally Morgan. He had made an investigation of the premises from the rooftop. From there he had observed the arrival of the large touring car. One man had left the car, talked to the guards in front of the building, and then returned to the car. The car had immediately pulled around the alley behind the building, and the seven men piled out to set up their ambush. Slipping silently off of the roof, Doc had moved silently behind the largest of the men, and grabbed him at the base of the neck. The man, Wheels, went limp. Doc’s skill as a surgeon allowed him to isolate a particular nerve cluster, and by compressing it, produce instant unconsciousness. Using a small, yet well-equipped disguise kit that he carried with him always in a special compartment of his vest, Doc hurriedly disguised himself, and joined Seven-Eleven’s gang. The joker in the deck came when Sally Morgan came out into the alley and started blasting away with the super-firer. Doc’s plan was to go with the gang, trying to trace the base of operations of the Steel Hammer. It would not serve to get involved in a running gun-battle in Toledo. Though he never carried a gun himself -- Doc believed that the habitual carrying of a firearm made a man too reliant on a physical weapon, rather than his wits -- he was a master marksman. Using Wheels' pistol, he had placed several accurate shots very near to Sally Morgan. These forced her to keep her head down while McSwain’s henchmen loaded Renny’s unconscious form into the big touring car. But the plan was not working out how he had hoped. Apparently, Blackie White was the only other member of the gang here at the orchard hideout. There were no mortars, no mortarmen. No submarine, no sailors. So as not to arouse suspicion, Doc slipped back outside. The interrogation of Renny was just concluding. “Probably some G-man,” Blackie White guessed. “The only thing I don’t know is that if they’ve figured out the Steel Hammer angle, or it this is some old business catching up with us.” There was some grunting and concern from all present. There was not a man there with less than $5,000 in rewards posted of their capture. “Hey, don’t you muggs start worrying now!” Seven-Eleven crowed. “This thing is fool-proof. All you’ve got to worry about is how you’re going to spend the million bucks apiece you’re each going to get for your share of the payout.” “Newspapers say the payout is supposed to be a hundred million smackers,” commented Rocko. “And what do you care about the newspapers?” McSwain challenged. “Aw, I ain’t saying nothing, Seven-Eleven,” Rocko answered. “Just that we’re the ones walking into the banks, moving through the poison gas, and taking the risks.” “Listen up!” said Blackie White. “You need to appreciate how big this thing really is. I’ve got a lot more than you guys on the payroll, and there’s been plenty of expenses too. You agreed to your end of the split when we started this thing. Besides, none of you have been anywhere near the gas when it’s gone in. “Now I’m gonna get Paulson to set us up some breakfast here in a little bit. You guys get some rest. The Steel Hammer is scheduled to take down the Peninsula Bank on Cass Avenue in Detroit at high noon today!”
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