Doc Savage: The Secret of Satan's Spine (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage Book 15) (13 page)

“Are they out cold?” he asked.

“No, they are still conscious, although extremely depleted. But I do not know why,” supplied Doc.

Seaman Worth went over to Monk and Ham, and immediately asked, “Why are their pores wide open?”

Which showed how perceptive Seaman Worth was, not that the intelligent cast of his face suggested otherwise. He seemed to be a sharp lad. He would have to be to have achieved the rank of boatswain at such a young age.

Doc said, “They do not appear to have been attacked, yet they are out of action.” Changing the subject, the bronze man asked, “I have already encountered Seaman Tucker and one other of your group. Is every one of your old crowd on board?”

Donald Worth nodded. “All four of us. This is our ship. We signed up for the Merchant Marines before Pearl Harbor, figuring it would enable us to be useful faster than any other way. We sort of saw what was coming.”

Doc nodded as if he would have expected no less of Seaman Worth and his friends.

For the first time, Don Worth smiled broadly and said, “It has been a long time, Doc.”

“A number of years,” Doc agreed. “I have always wondered how you fellows were getting along.”

“You know us,” shrugged Worth. “We were always actively trying to better ourselves, although in different ways. We meant to stay in touch longer than we did, but that’s life. Then came the war in Europe. It was not hard to see that America would have to take a stand.” Suddenly, a slightly reflective look leapt into Donald’s intelligent eyes and he asked, “What are you doing on this ship?”

Swiftly, Doc filled in the young man, beginning with the attempt to lure Monk Mayfair away from boarding the
Northern Star.
He
described the man known as Diamond in great detail, emphasizing his hair, burly build and feline eyes the color of amber.

Don nodded. “We are carrying passengers, but most are foreign sailors being returned to their homeland. The man you describe with this hair like cigarette smoke is not one I recall noticing.”

“Nevertheless, he is on board. I spotted him earlier. But now he is bald. The smoky hair looked artificial, suggesting a wig. I do not know what his game is, nor what he intends. Only that it must be some form of mischief. Of that, there is no doubt.”

Seaman Worth nodded gravely. Eyeing Monk and Ham, he asked, “Shouldn’t we be trying to wake them up?”

Doc stated, “I am reluctant to inject them with any stimulant, inasmuch as I do not know what constitutes their ailment.”

“But you can’t just leave them there. For that matter, Oiler Goines is going to be missed before long.”

“It is—or was—my intention to impersonate Seaman Goines for the next day or so.”

“Risky,” commented Worth.

Doc Savage ignored that cautionary remark, and returned to examining Monk and Ham.

“How about giving them water?” suggested Worth.

“The empty glasses strewn about suggest that they were drinking water when they were overcome. I am not sure water would help, but I am at a loss to explain their condition.”

The bronze man went to a black bag that rather resembled a doctor’s satchel, such as would be used by a physician making house calls. It was far more elaborately equipped than that, and Doc began preparing two syringes to draw blood from his men.

This took several minutes. Then Doc extracted a black tube resembling a mechanical pencil from a pocket. By telescoping its segments and outwardly manipulating its component parts, he converted it into a very simple microscope.

Doc squirted out a small quantity of serum blood on the porcelain sink top, and applied the microscope lens to both samples. He did not seem to understand what he was perceiving, but then went to a small trunk, which he opened, and which proved to be an extremely complex chemical laboratory.

Extracting items from this, Doc fell to analyzing the blood in a number of ways that were simple but comprehensive. At the end of it, he seemed slightly dumbstruck, but that might have been a combination of his ordinarily impassive features lurking beneath the disguise of Seaman Goines.

“What is it?” asked Worth, recognizing that the bronze man had arrived at some determination.

“Both blood samples are identical in one respect,” Doc said. “These men are showing an extreme lack of iron in the blood.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like Monk and Ham,” mused Seaman Worth. “They’re pretty hearty eaters, the both of them.”

Taking up another syringe, Doc drew a sample of his own blood, and gave it a similar analysis.

Donald Worth observed this operation in absorbed silence.

When Doc was finished testing his own blood, he announced, “I am showing the slightest symptoms of the same condition or ailment that has overcome Monk and Ham.”

“What does that mean?” asked the other.

The bronze man’s steady gaze went to the oilskin pouch and he said, “When I found them, the object currently resting within that waterproof sack was sitting open on the table. After I picked it up, I began to feel strange.”

“Strange in what way?” asked Seaman Worth.

“It felt as if I were losing vitality,” said Doc slowly.

“What’s in the bag?” asked Worth.

“Merely a rock carved into the shape of a human fist, or possibly naturally formed that way.”

“Mere rock wouldn’t do that, would it?”

Doc Savage looked at the hand he had used to pick up the rock artifact and saw that the coarse open pores had somewhat contracted back to their normal appearance.

Instead of answering directly, the bronze man said, “It does not make sense that anything, no matter what it is composed of, could draw the mineral iron out of a human being through his pores, but that appears to be what has happened.”

Seaman Worth thought about this for a few moments then asked, “What can be done for them?”

“Can you lay hands on some iron pills or, better yet, a raw steak?” asked Doc.

“Steak is kind of hard to come by; it’s reserved for officers. But I know where we can get some iron pills.”

“Bring them here as quickly as possible,” requested the bronze man.

“I’ll be back in a flash,” said Seaman Worth, slipping out the curtain-muffled door so that the bizarre sight of two identical Negros and two other men lying on the floor would not be seen by a chance passerby.

After the door banged shut, Doc Savage reflected upon the unusual circumstances that brought him back into contact with Don Worth, whom he had encountered during the course of an adventure several years back in which the young man, then a teenager—along with his three friends—had become embroiled in a bizarre criminal scheme, in which Don’s father was an early victim.

The bronze man had liked the four boys, as they were good-natured and industrious as American youth are inclined to be, and they had stayed in communication by letter. Over time, they had fallen out of regular contact.

Now it appeared that fate had thrown them together again. Examining Monk and Ham with his dark eyes, Doc Savage began to feel as if it was a very provident fate, for he may need extra help if he was to unravel the mystery of Diamond and his presence aboard the
Northern Star
.

Beginning with the question of how the uncanny fist of stone came to be in the cabin in the first place.

Chapter XII

REUNION

BOATSWAIN DONALD WORTH hurried to the ship’s dispensary, and accosted a slender young Merchant Marine whose shirt pocket bore the name of DEXTER.

At sight of Worth, Seaman Dexter began talking excitedly. His eyes snapped with every syllable, all but throwing off sparks, as if electrically charged.

“What brings you here, Don?” Without waiting for reply, Seaman Dexter went on rapidly, “I’ve been thinking of this nifty idea all day long. When we reach Europe, what do you say we—?”

Serious-faced Donald Worth cut him off at the pass. “Don’t get excited, Dex, but Doc Savage is on board.”

“Doc Savage!” blurted the excitable Dexter. His full name was B. Elmer Dexter, and he was one of the quartet who had been friends with Donald Worth seemingly forever, but in actuality since they were pups.

“Quiet!” hushed Worth. “I told you not to get excited. Doc is on board with Monk and Ham. Doc is pursuing a mystery, but Monk and Ham are in trouble. They need all the iron tablets you can muster up.”

“What do you mean by all? There’s a ton of them in the stores. I can’t take every one!”

“Well, I don’t actually know how much they’re going to need, but hand me a couple of bottles to start with.”

B. Elmer Dexter went into a back room, rummaged around several medicine cabinets and came back with three bottles, quipping, “One for luck.”

“Thanks,” said Don. “Have you seen any sign of Mental?”

“You mean Seaman Byron? He’s trying to shake that nickname, the same as Funny.”

In more innocent days, Morris Byron had been known as “Mental” because he was a thinker and a dreamer. Funny was a ship’s steward who was born Leander Tucker and who was also trying to unburden himself of his youthful predilection for juvenile humor, which naturally led to the nickname of “Funny.”

“I know that,” snapped Don Worth patiently. “But where is he?”

“I think he goes off duty about now.”

“Go round him up. And find Funny, too.”

“You mean Tuck,” corrected B. Elmer Dexter.

“Just round them up and meet me at cabin Six-A,” said Seaman Worth, rushing out of the ship’s dispensary with all speed.

B. Elmer Dexter was not off duty as yet, but with the prospect of Doc Savage on board and, as excited as he was, he was not at all about to let a minor matter such as ship’s discipline trip him up. Face eager, he charged out of the dispensary, and raced over to the dining room.

He had a little bit of luck, for on his way to hunt down Leander Tucker—whom Doc Savage had earlier recognized in the ship’s mess—he happened upon Morris Byron, who was chewing the fat with Tucker.

Drifting up to them, trying to contain his excitement, Dex hissed, “Hoist anchor and follow in my wake. Both of you.”

Morris Byron acquired an interested look on his rugged face. This was the individual whom Doc Savage had earlier spoken to, having recognized him from his rugged, Lincolnesque features.

“What’s up?” he asked placidly.

“It’s not what’s up, but who’s on board?”

“Who?” burst out Seamen Tucker and Byron so close together they sounded like a pair of calling owls.

“His initials are Doc Savage.”

That got the attention of the two young Merchant Marines, and they followed B. Elmer Dexter out of the dining hall and into the ship’s cramped corridors.

Making their way to cabin Six-A, they both barely contained their excitement.

Don Worth let the trio in, and said, “Be prepared for a shock.”

It was good advice, but it didn’t quite take. The three young men were too excited to hear the words so that their brains fully understood them.

When they beheld a man they recognized as Seaman Jury Goines administering to another man they also recognized as Oiler Goines—who was lying on the bunk—their jaws seemed to lose all self-control, for they dropped like marionettes whose strings had been cut.

“What in blue blazes?” blurted B. Elmer Dexter.

Don advised, “The one standing is Doc Savage. You know the other one. That’s Monk and Ham lying on the floor. Doc and I just fed them more iron pills than should have been necessary.”

“Why do they need so much iron all of a sudden?” wondered Morris Byron.

“Because somehow the iron in their blood got sucked out of their bloodstreams,” answered Worth.

Three young Merchant Mariners chewed on that morsel for a moment and the expressions on their faces registered bafflement.

Doc Savage turned and smiled a smile that would not have fit the face of Seaman Goines even though he wore that identical visage. In revealing his teeth, he showed clearly that he was not Goines. Goines had bad teeth. The bronze man hadn’t been able to do much about that except stain his front teeth, keeping his mouth closed as much as possible.

“How are you men doing?” asked Doc.

The trio beamed, for even though they had successfully joined the Merchant Marines, the last time they had encountered the bronze miracle man they had been mere boys. The acknowledgement signified that they were now seen as adults by their idol. This meant something to them. Their chests practically puffed out.

They babbled answers, and the words collided, entangling in the close air of the stateroom cabin.

Finally, Seaman Byron exclaimed, “I know it’s August, but it sounds like the Fourth of July in here!”

Doc addressed them. “With Monk and Ham temporarily out of action, I have use for your eyes and ears—and perhaps more if the going gets difficult.”

The trio all but saluted. Then Don Worth inserted a sober note.

“Let no one forget who is in command of this ship, or what our duties and responsibilities are.”

The three men assumed serious expressions and Dex said, “Nothing says we can’t do double duty.”

“Exactly,” said Doc Savage. “But bear in mind that I have the full cooperation of the captain of the ship.”

Seaman Tucker asked, “Does he know you’re tricked out to look like Seaman Goines?”

Doc Savage shook his head. “He does not, Funny.”

Seaman Tucker frowned, saying, “I don’t go by that name anymore. But you can call me Tuck.”

“Very well then, Tuck,” said Doc. “I have not apprised your skipper of my imposture. It is necessary for me to conduct a search of the passengers without anyone knowing who I am.”

Morris Byron said hastily, “Our lips are sealed, Mr. Savage.”

“Thank you,” said Doc. “On this ship is a man of about fifty years of age who is almost entirely bald. You will also recognize him by his amber eyes. This is the individual I encountered on land under the name of Diamond. He appears to be the leader of a group of men who were up to no good.”

“What do you want us to do about him?” asked Leander Tucker.

“Keep a close eye on him, all of you. But give special attention to anyone with whom he is seen associating. I suspect his gang are also on board. I do not know all of them by sight. But I have seen the passenger list and the names of many of these men sound ersatz.”