The newspaper headline blared the news from Detroit:

STEEL HAMMER STRIKES DETROIT!
25 Killed in Gas Attack!

TERROR SPREADS
MORE DEAD -- $60,000 TAKEN

WHERE WILL THE
STEEL HAMMER STRIKE NEXT?
“Pay Ransom” Says Public


The Chicago “Inquirer” ran a special eye-witness account from their on-the-spot reporter:

DEATH STRIKES DETROIT!
The Fatal Gas Attack!
by Sally Morgan


The story detailed Sally Morgan’s eye-witness account of the Steel Hammer’s attack on Detroit. It told of people being overcome on the streets of Detroit by poison gas, of the efforts of ambulance drivers, who braved death to take the victims to a local hospital, of doctors and nurses who labored there to save lives, and of the anguish of the relatives of the victims, as they waited to find out if their loved ones would live.
The story was an outstanding piece of journalism. It detailed facts. It caught the mood of the city in its hour of peril. It praised the courage and dedication of those who worked to save lives. It showed compassion for the those who had been stricken.
It was an outstanding piece of journalism, in every way but one.
Like all of the other stories coming out of Detroit, it was totally false.
After apprehending Seven-Eleven McSwain and the gang, Doc had quickly contacted authorities, and outlined his plan. Accordingly, ambulances had been dispatched to the vicinity of the corner of Holland and Second Avenue. They then proceeded to Sister of Mercy Hospital, where the supposed “victims” were isolated in a special ward.
The doctors issued bulletins about the condition of their supposed patients. The police commissioner provided information about the robbery and the attack. To all intents and purposes, the story matched the pattern of the attacks in Pittsburgh and Cleveland. The Steel Hammer had robbed a bank in the middle of a major American city, under the cover of a vicious cloud of an unknown yellow-green poison gas.
In the meantime, Doc arranged for Hank Morgan’s mortarmen and Phil Adams’ submariners, who had also been duped by “Frank” White, to be released to his custody. His aides were escorting them to Paulson Orchards, which Doc planned to use as an isolated base of operations, while he questioned everyone involved in the case.
The interrogation of Seven-Eleven McSwain and his gang of bank-robbers came first. Unfortunately, it provided very little information. Even under the administration of Doc’s special “truth serum” and hypnosis, they added very little to what Doc had already found out.
Blackie White had recruited McSwain and the others as his bank robbers. They knew about the ruse of the submariners and mortarmen, who thought they were working for Doc Savage. Each was convinced that they would be part of a one million dollar per man pay-off once the hundred million dollar ransom was paid..
Doc had finished his interrogations by the time that Long Tom and Johnny arrived with Sally Morgan, her brother, and his fellow mortarmen. The group had been delayed in Detroit as Sally Morgan telephoned in her “on-the-spot” story about the Steel Hammer’s attack to her newspaper
It was a despondent group of men that unloaded from their trucks. Sally Morgan had told her brother how he had been tricked. Long Tom and Johnny had sadly confirmed her story. Hank and his fellows now realized how they had been fooled.
DOC ADDRESSED the men as soon as they arrived.
All eyes were drawn to the bronze man as he stood in front of them. “Men,” he said, “you are the victims of an ingenious plot. Evil men have used your patriotism and trust to take advantage of you, and enlist you in their scheme.”
Doc spoke in clear, even tones. He used his study of psychiatry to try to relieve the men’s anxieties about what they had been involved in. He assured them that he considered them to be innocent victims of a foul plot, and that they would not be prosecuted. The men were visibly relieved at this news.
“But right now, my aides and myself are going to need to ask you some questions. We need to find out what you know about what has gone on. We need to find out as much as we can. Please try and remember as much as you can. There may be details that you know, which you don’t think are relevant, which may in fact be clues to tracking down the Steel Hammer.”
Long Tom and Johnny broke the mortarmen down into two groups, and began questioning them. Doc removed one of the poison gas shells from the truck, and began examining it.
He was interrupted by Sally Morgan.
“Where’s Renwick?” she asked abruptly.
Doc said nothing.
“He’s not hurt, is he?”
Doc turned and faced the young woman. She seemed genuinely concerned. Doc surmised that Renny might have an interesting situation on his hands when he met up with Sally Morgan again. “Renny is fine,” Doc said.
“Is he here?”
“No.”
“I’ll bet you’ve got him on the trail of Blackie White?”
Doc was surprised, though he showed no emotion. Sally had figured out a part of his plan. Since she had already come up with several good clues, and had a reporters understanding of how the Chicago underworld worked, Doc decided to turn the questioning around.
“Why would I have him trailing Blackie White?” Doc countered.
“To find the real boss of the Steel Hammer gang, obviously!”
“Are you so sure Blackie White isn’t the boss?”
“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Clark Savage, Jr.,” Sally said. “Blackie White is a big-time mobster, sure. But he never would have had the brains to set something like this up by himself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Darn sure,” said Sally. “Not to mention the fact that this thing was incredibly expensive to set up. He’s had over fifty men on a payroll for months, feeding them, hiding them out, buying submarines, setting up hide-outs, moving people all around the country. He’s easily spent over a million bucks just setting all this up.”
“You don’t think he spent the money to set it up, with the idea of collecting it back a hundred times over with his demand for a hundred million dollar ransom?” Doc quizzed.
Sally Morgan ticked off points on her fingers. “One, Blackie White never had a million bucks at one time in his life. Two, if he did, he’d be swigging rum on the beach in Rio. And three, I seem to recall that the Steel Hammer requested that ransom ‘in gold’.”
“And you think that significant?”
“Mrs. Morgan’s oldest daughter paid attention during arithmetic, mister. A million dollars in gold weighs just about 2,000 pounds -- one ton.
“While we were driving up here, I asked my brother Hank how much those trucks he’s been using could carry. He told me that they had a payload capacity of two tons each.
“I’ve worked kidnapping stories in Chicago. Crooks look for a ransom that can be delivered quickly and secretly; a suitcase thrown out of a car window at night at a special spot on a deserted highway. Nobody with half a brain would expect to get away with a ransom that had to be delivered by a convoy of 50 trucks!”
“You’ve obviously thought, this out, Miss Morgan,” said Doc.
“You bet I have! And I’ve been a good scout all through this,” she continued, conveniently forgetting clouting Renny and kidnapping him back in Pittsburgh, “and I filed the story with my paper like you asked. So the least you can do is let me in on what is going on.”
“We’re waiting,” said Doc.
“Waiting? For what?”
“For the submarine, and for Blackie White.”
BLACKIE WHITE got the news of the Steel Hammer’s attack on Detroit at a gas station outside of Flint, Michigan. He was headed for Chicago in a shiny new Ford, and had stopped to fill up the tank, when he heard the news flash come over the radio the station had playing.
“Bulletin! Downtown Detroit has come under attack by the Steel Hammer! Poison gas has filled the street and ...”
Blackie White paid for his gas, and cruised on toward Chicago. The Detroit robbery had gone according to plan, and should net a minimum of another $50,000. The bank job he had planned in Chicago for the day after tomorrow, targeting the third largest Federal Reserve Bank in the country, should net a minimum of $100,000.
Maybe his silent partner really believed the U. S. government would fork over a hundred-million dollar ransom. Maybe Seven-Eleven McSwain and his band of robbers believed that would happen, with a million dollar pay-off apiece.
No way Blackie White believed it. The problem with any ransom caper was that you had to show yourself to make the pick-up. And even if the government would pony up the gold, there would be no getaway, no matter what his partner might think.
Not that he was worried. His partner had provided the plan and financial backing to set up the entire Steel Hammer operation. Blackie White had been his front man, setting things into motion. And now, he would have the loot from the biggest bank heists in history. Let McSwain and his gunmen wait for a million bucks tin gold they’d never see -- Blackie White planned to be south of the border with close to $300,000 in U. S. greenbacks -- the proceeds of the Steel Hammer robberies.
He didn’t notice the pick-up truck from Paulson Orchards that was following him, mainly because it was rarely in sight.
Behind the wheel of the truck was Renny. He followed Blackie White’s Ford by means of a tiny radio tracking device that Doc had planted in the car while he was disguised as the driver, Wheels. Doc’s instructions to him had been to shadow Blackie White.
Renny followed the radio signal, keeping back out of sight, until his radio buzzed.
“Go ahead Doc,” he answered.
“I just finished questioning McSwain and the others,” came Doc’s voice over the small two-way radio he had left with Renny when he’d left him in the orchard. “They know nothing. Stop Blackie White and bring him back to Paulson Orchards.”
“Will do,” Renny rumbled.
He popped the pick-up truck into top gear, and stomped the gas pedal to the dloor.
All Blackie White saw was an old pick-up truck trailing a cloud of oily smoke roaring up behind him. Then in an instant, the truck was beside him, forcing him off the road into the ditch. His head bounced off the steering wheel.
That’s when Blackie White saw red. He was not going to have some ignorant farm boy in a best up truck ruin his plans. Roaring, he forced open the car door, which had been slightly jammed by the crash. “Why I’ll....”
He got one foot out of the car.
That was as far as he got.
Blackie White only saw red for a very short time before his face met one of Renny’s giant fists. He went to sleep very soon after.
When he woke up, Blackie White would be black and blue.