Ds184 python isle doc, p.10
DS184_Python_Isle.doc, page 10
"I got another message for Doc Savage, ape-face. He back yet?"
It was Morris O. Jones, the messenger boy.
Monk was about to resort to a snappy retort when Doc cut in.
"Show him in, Monk," the Bronze Man said quietly.
"Step this way, midget," Monk growled.
Morris O. Jones' manner changed abruptly when he was ushered into the quiet-yet-commanding presence of the Man of Bronze.
"G-gee," he breathed. "Are you Doc Savage?"
Doc smiled in acknowledgment.
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VII - The Clue Cloud
"You have a message for me?"
Jones handed it over, awe taking his words away.
It was another radiogram. Doc tipped the boy generously.
Jones just stood there gawking. He had completely forgotten about asking for the Bronze Man's autograph.
"You've had your fun, short stuff. Now scram!" Monk told him unkindly.
Morris O. Jones turned a critical eye toward the apish chemist.
"I see you've met your betters," he said, appraising Monk's bruised face.
Monk scowled and feinted for the departing messenger boy who danced out of the way.
The hairy chemist started to follow …
"Monk!"
It was Doc Savage's voice. It stopped the homely chemist in his tracks and brought Ham to his feet.
"Yeah?" Monk said anxiously.
Doc was reading through the radiogram.
"Trouble."
"What is it, Doc?" Ham demanded.
"This is a message from Renny's associates in South Africa," the bronze giant told them grimly.
"They say that he has been seized by unknown criminals at a radio station in Cape Town."
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
VIII - The Aeromunde Trek
VIII -- The Aeromunde Trek
The news of the abduction of Renny Renwick in Cape Town, South Africa dispelled the gloomy mood into which Monk and Ham had fallen.
This is not to say that it lifted their spirits. Renny had been a comrade-in-arms through many a bloody adventure.
But this was something they could sink their teeth into after the discouraging affair of the stolen radiogram and the equally discouraging brush with the Bull Pizano gang.
Monk and Ham fell to work with a will.
Doc Savage had engaged the services of fully half the private detectives in New York and New Jersey in his effort to locate Bull Pizano and his men. The sleuths were actively hunting the big crook and his truck, its license plate numbers provided by Doc's photographic memory. These investigators reported hourly and Doc and Monk were taking the calls.
Monk hung up after speaking to one of the detectives.
"No luck, Doc. Sounds like Pizano mighta skipped town."
The Bronze Man nodded. He turned to Ham who had just entered from the Library where he had made a transatlantic call to Renny's engineering associates.
"What have you learned?" Doc asked the lawyer.
Ham absently flicked a speck of dust from his immaculate coat.
"Not much, I'm afraid. Renny's hydroelectric project was attacked earlier today by gunmen. The marauders appear to have been pursuing a strangely-garbed man who has not been identified.
"But a man who answers his description was found drifting at sea by the Australian liner Brisbane last night. It would seem that this man made his way to see Renny, was overtaken, and kidnapped.
Renny was not hurt.
"Later, however, there was another fight at the project and Renny was last seen chasing someone toward Cape Town. Witnesses identified someone who fits Renny's description being carried out of the Cape Town radio station by gunmen some hours after. They, in turn, fit the descriptions of the earlier attackers. The criminals vanished and the authorities found the radio operator unconscious. He hasn't much of a story to tell either, I'm afraid," Ham summarized.
"These men were not identified?" Doc asked quietly.
"No," Ham told him. "They are not Cape Town thugs according to authorities over there."
Briefly, Doc's eerie trilling rose and fell in the spacious Reception-room … then ebbed away.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
VIII - The Aeromunde Trek
What had begun as a struggle over a mysterious message was developing into something with worldwide consequences. For it had become obvious to the Man of Bronze that the business of the radiogram from South Africa tied in somehow with Renny Renwick's kidnapping there.
"This is getting' interestin'," Monk muttered. "I think I'll go get a paper. Maybe there'll be somethin'
in that."
He departed.
"Ham," Doc directed, "call the local authorities and explain to them about the affair in the East River warehouse and the dead criminal who can be found there."
"Right-o, Doc."
Ham put in the call … spoke in quiet tones for some moments … and hung up.
"They say anytime you care to make a formal statement, that's fine with them."
"In other words, they do not intend to interfere with our own investigating?"
"No," Ham replied.
That satisfied the Bronze Man. Neither he nor Ham acted as if the police attitude was anything but expected. But such consideration is not usually bestowed upon private citizens.
It happened that Doc Savage had been of great assistance to the New York authorities in the past.
And they had rewarded him with a high honorary police commission. As a matter of fact, Doc held similar honorary commissions all over the World.
In that light, the police tended to "look the other way" when Doc's work caused havoc such as had occurred in Queens and later in the East River warehouse.
Monk returned waving a late edition of the Planet, a tabloid that he favored.
"Hey Doc!" he squeaked. "Lookit this."
He slapped the tabloid before the Bronze Man and planted a stubby forefinger on an item.
It was one of those human interest pieces which editors use to lighten their pages. This one told of a peculiar buying spree by a big fellow who had made the rounds of various New York pet shops buying out their stocks of cats and canaries. The scribe described the buyer and inserted some levity to the effect that the canaries were likely food for the newly-bought felines.
Doc glanced over the description.
"Bull Pizano," he said grimly.
Monk nodded. "But that was hours ago. Before we got those detectives goin'. He coulda skipped town after that."
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Ham snorted!
"There is still time for our investigators to locate Pizano."
He did not sound especially confident. But it was Ham's policy never to agree with anything Monk Mayfair said.
Doc's flake-gold eye s whirled in thought.
"Bull Pizano is not our main concern now with Renny in trouble. Although his apprehension would certainly be desirable. We will keep the detectives working until the time we depart for Cape Town in the event that they turn something up. In the meantime, we prepare for the journey and get some needed sleep."
"But shouldn’t we leave immediately?" Ham asked concernedly. "We can spell each other flying the tri-motor."
Doc Savage shook his bronze head.
"Flying from New York to Cape Town would require too many refueling at out-of-the-way locations to be practical."
"Then how are we gonna get there if not by plane?" Monk asked, not unreasonably. "A transatlantic liner would be even slower."
"We are going," the Bronze Man informed them, " by Zeppelin."
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The Zeppelin Aeromunde docked at Lakehurst Naval Air Station in New Jersey promptly at 9:00 the following morning. Doc Savage, Monk Mayfair, and Ham Brooks were there to meet it.
As the huge silver airship was being winched down and coupled to the crane-like mooring tower, Monk remarked: "Boy! I never thought we'd see that baby again."
Monk was referring to the fact that they had traveled on the Aeromunde once before. It was in the course of a previous adventure which -- coincidently -- had taken them to Africa.
The Aeromunde was a Zeppelin with a strange and bloody past. Built almost 2 decades ago in Europe, it had vanished without trace on a Mediterranean flight. The disappearance of the airship had been one of the World's greatest mysteries …
… until Doc Savage-- investigating rumors of a ghost Zeppelin sighted in Maine -- stowed away on the craft and subsequently found himself in a lost African oasis where the airship's crew were enslaved and being to work the diamond mines for a pair of evil villains. Doc and his men freed the unfortunates and punished the malefactors [read "The Lost Oasis (#007)"].
After the adventure, Doc restored the airship to the nation that owned it. Now, even though the craft was many years out of date (it had been the most advanced dirigible of its day), that country was sending archived at http://www.stealthskater.com/DocSavage.htm
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it on a globe-girdling goodwill tour intended to drum up support for lighter-than-air craft as a passenger service.
The Aeromunde was in New Jersey on one leg of that trek to take on diesel fuel and fresh hydrogen for its ballonets.
It was no great feat for Doc Savage and his aides to secretly secure passage on the mighty dirigible.
The owner nation was duly grateful to the Man of Bronze. And the airship was taking on passengers at each docking anyway.
Doc, Monk, and Ham were spirited aboard before the regular passengers were allowed entry into the air monster's vast innards along with their luggage. The latter included cases of special scientific equipment which they thought might come in handy during the search for Renny.
The three were welcomed aboard by the Aeromunde's captain and shown to the private staterooms they were to occupy.
Ham looked about their adjoining accommodations approvingly.
"This is a trifle better than what we had to put up with the last time by Jove," he remarked.
He was thinking of their ordeal as transatlantic stowaways in the airship's envelope.
They set about stowing away their luggage and equipment. Monk opened a carryall bag and the pet pig Habeas Corpus trotted out. Much to Ham's disgust.
"On no!" he moaned. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to spend the entire voyage cooped up with that flea-bitten circus animal!"
"And you'll like it too," said Monk. "If you don't, you can just lump it you writ of habeas hokum."
The hairy chemist opened a metal case. This contained a small, complete-but-amazingly compact chemical laboratory.
"This should come in handy," he announced.
An hour later, the citizens of New Jersey and New York were treated to a rare sight. That of a huge airship sailing majestically out to sea.
Doc Savage and his men settled down for the long voyage. With her 5 motors reconditioned since the African adventure, the Aeromunde was still eminently airworthy. There was none of the pitch and roll which makes ocean liners so disagreeable to many travelers.
The airship cruised over the Atlantic at a high altitude. There was a strong tail wind. London lay ahead. After that, Cape Town, South Africa.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
VIII - The Aeromunde Trek
For the most part, Doc Savage remained in his stateroom, desiring to avoid curiosity seekers. He took his meals there.
Monk also kept out of sight, fearing his unusual physique might betray the Bronze Man's presence.
There were numerous newspapermen covering the Aeromunde's voyage. And despite the fact that Doc habitually shunned publicity, they were likely to beat down the doors trying to get stories or photographs of the "Man of Mystery" (as they often called Doc in print) if they learned of his presence.
The first 2 days of the trip were quiet and tedious. Worry over Renny Renwick's fate rode their thoughts. Only Monk's latest effort at getting Ham's goat livened things up.
He had trained the shoat Habeas Corpus to steal Ham's socks. But only one of each pair. As a result, by the 3rd day Ham was in a rage because he was left with only one sock of each color and was forced to wear a mismatched pair.
"You missing link!" he shrieked at Monk. "You poor man's Cardiff Giant!" You think this is funny?"
He waved the tattered remnants of several silk socks.
"Yeah," Monk said brightly. "I think it's funny. Don't you, Habeas?"
The porker looked up at the distressed attorney and seemed to say: "Yeah. He sure looks funny, all right."
Ham threw his cane at the pig who promptly sought shelter behind Monk's bandy legs.
To cool off, Ham ended up taking a stroll through the ship. Inasmuch as he was not as striking a physical specimen as either Doc or Monk, it was thought safe for him to mingle with the passengers. In fact, he had been bringing Doc and Monk their meals.
"That shyster is gonna bust an artery one day," Monk predicted. "He worries about his clothes so much."
He shooed his pig away and settled down to watch Doc Savage.
Doc was going through his daily 2-hour ritual of exercises as he had done each day during the ocean crossing. These were the explanation of his amazing physical and mental powers.
They lasted a full 2 hours, every second of which the Bronze Man worked out at full speed. He had adhered to this regimen faithfully ever since -- as a youth -- the elder Savage had placed him in the hands of scientists for the express purpose of making him what he was today. A superman.
He began by making his muscles tug one against the other until every inch of his mighty body (he wore only black silk shorts) glistened under a film of perspiration. He juggled mathematical problems in his head simultaneously, sharpening his mental acuity.
Next, the bronze giant produced various apparatus designed to enhance his superhuman senses.
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He employed a device which created sound waves of frequencies above-and-below those audible by the human ear. As a result, he possessed aural organs capable of registering these sounds. His hearing was keener than it was thought possible for a human being.
Doc named numerous odors from tiny vials by scent alone while wearing a blindfold. Then -- still blindfolded -- he read pages in Braille -- the system of upraised dots used by the blind in place of print.
This honed his sense of touch.
Monk watched in fascination because the mighty Bronze Man went through these -- and many others -- exercises at a nonstop pace which would have prostrated a man unused to it.
Monk, in fact, sweated a little just watching. The burly chemist was not a great believer in regular exercise.
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It was while Doc Savage was toweling himself at the conclusion of his daily ritual that Ham Brooks returned. He was, they noticed, as white as the proverbial ghost.
"What's the matter, fashion plate?" Monk inquired unkindly. "Your tailor up-and-die?"
The dapper lawyer made fish-breathing movements with his lips. But no words emerged.
"Ham!" Doc rapped. "What is the problem?"
The shaken attorney took a deep breath … swallowed twice … and croaked:
"Bull … Pizano … is on … board!"
"What!" Monk howled. "Lemme at 'im!"
"Wait, Monk," Doc ordered. "Are you sure, Ham?"
"Sure? How … can I mistake … him? That … monster is almost as … ugly … as Monk here."
"Did he see you?" Doc asked.
His golden eye s were steady.
"I…I'm not certain," Ham swallowed. "I almost bumped into him in the dining hall."
Just then, Habeas Corpus trotted happily through the door. It was the sliding type, common on airships. Ham had left it ajar.
The pig had something in its mouth. Monk went over to see what it was.
"Whatcha got, Habeas? Another of that clothes dummy's socks?"
Monk pried the hog's jaws loose and a bird -- a yellow bird -- flew out.
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It was a canary, evidently not badly hurt from Habeas' playful mauling.
Ham groaned like a soul in torment.
"I knew it! That fool hog is going to get us all killed for sure!"
Bull Pizano took that opportunity to walk by.
"Here, boidy," he called entreatingly. "Here, boidy. Come to Papa."
He caught sight of Monk through the open door and let loose with a thundering howl.
"I mighta known!" he yelled.
Monk -- his arms swinging -- roared in reply and rushed for the giant Bull.
Doc Savage then did something he had never done before …
He interfered with one of Monk's fights.
A bronze cyclone, he descended upon Monk and hurled him the length of the room with a single shove of his great cabled arms.
Then Doc flashed toward big Bull Pizano.
Bull lacked his baseball this time. So there was no preliminary action. Doc moved in, bronze fists lifting.
Bull spread his beam-like arms openhanded with the intention of gathering Doc up in a crushing bear hug.
