The Pirate of the Pacific

Chapter 11 PERIL LINER

MORE questioning revealed that no one had been in sight when the steward looked around after having the note drop at his feet.

The steward departed, perspiring a little. That night he didn't sleep well, what with dreaming of uncanny golden eyes which had seemed to suck the truth out of him like magnets, pulling at steel bars.

In the royal suite, Renny made grim preparations. He donned a bullet-proof vest and harnessed two of Doc's compact machine guns under his arms, where they wouldn't bulge his coat too much.

"Tom Too is not gonna set back and wait to see if we intend to lay off him," he rumbled wrathfully. "We've got to watch our step."

"Not a bad idea," Doc agreed. "From now on we take no more meals in the dining saloon."

"I hope we ain't gonna fast," grunted Renny, who was a heavy eater.

"Concentrated rations are in our baggage."

"Any chance of a prowler poisoning the stuff?"

"Very little. It would be next to impossible to get into the containers without breaking the seals."

Renny completed his grim preparations. He straightened his coat, then surveyed himself in the mirror. His garments had been tailored to conceal guns worn in under-arm holsters. The bullet-proof vest was inside, worn as an undergarment. Renny did not look like a walking fortress.

"What are we going to do about Tom Too?" he asked.

"We'll move slowly, for the time being. We don't want to get him excited enough to kill our pals," Doc said. "Our first move will be to consult the captain of the ship."

They found Captain Hickman, commander of the Malay Queen, on his bridge.

Captain Hickman was a short-legged man with a body that was nearly egg-shaped. Sea gales and blistering tropical suns had reddened his face until it looked as if it had been soaked in beet juice. His uniform was resplendent. with gold braid and brass buttons.

Four nattily clad apprentice officers stood on the bridge, keeping watch over the instruments.

The first mate strode sprucely back and forth, supervising the apprentices and the general operation of the liner.

The first mate was somewhat of a fashion plate, his uniform being impeccable. He was a slender, pliant man with good shoulders and a thin-featured, not unhandsome face. His skin had a deeply tanned hue. His eyes were elevated a trifle at the outer corners, lending a suspicion some of his ancestors had been Orientals. This was not unusual, considering the Malay Queen plied the Orient trade.

Doc introduced himself to Captain Hickman.

"Savage — Savage — hm-m-m!" Captain Hickman murmured, stroking his red jaw. "Your name sounds very familiar, but I can't quite place it."

The first mate came over, saying: "No doubt you saw this man's name in the newspapers, captain. Doc Savage conducted the mysterious submarine expedition to the arctic regions. The papers were full of it."

"To be sure!" ejaculated Captain Hickman. Then he introduced the first mate. "This is Mr. Jong, my first officer."

The impeccable first mate bowed, his polite smile increasing the Oriental aspect of his features to a marked degree.

DOC SAVAGE and Renny went into consultation with Captain Hickman in the latter's private sitting room.

"We have reason to believe three of my friends are being held prisoner somewhere aboard this liner," Doc explained bluntly. "It is a human impossibility for two men, or even three or four, to search a boat this size. The captives could easily be shifted to a portion of the vessel which we had already searched, and we would be none the wiser. We therefore wish the aid of your crew, such of them as you trust implicitly."

Captain Hickman rubbed his brow. He seemed too surprised for words.

"It is extremely important the search be conducted with the utmost secrecy," Doc continued. "Any alarm will mean the death of my friends."

"This is highly irregular!" the commander objected.

"Possibly."

"Have you any authority to command such a search?"

The flaky gold in Doc's eyes began to take on a molten aspect, an indication of anger.

"I had hoped you would cooperate freely in this matter." No wrath was apparent in his powerful voice.

At this point a radio operator entered the cabin, saluted briskly, and presented Captain Hickman a message.

The florid commander read it. His lips compressed; his eyes hardened.

"No search of this ship will be made!" he snapped. "And you two men are under arrest!"

Renny sprang to his feet, roaring: "What're you trying to pull on us?"

"Calm down," Doc told him mildly. Then he asked Captain Hickman: "May I see that radiogram?"

The skipper of the Malay Queen hesitated, then passed the wireless missive over. It read:

CAPTAIN HICKMAN

COMMANDER S S MALAY QUEEN

SEARCH YOUR SHIP FOR MEN NAMED CLARK SAVAGE JR

ALIAS DOC SAVAGE AND COLONEL JOHN RENWICK ALIAS

RENNY RENWICK STOP ARREST BOTH AND HOLD STOP

WANTED FOR MURDERING SEVERAL MONGOLIANS AND

CHINESE IN NEW YORK CITY STOP SAN FRANCISCO

POLICE DEPARTMENT

"Holy cow!" Renny thundered his pet expletive. "How did

they know we were aboard?"

"They didn't," Doc said grimly. "This is Tom Too's work. Call that radio operator in here, captain. We'll see if he really received such a message."

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" snapped Captain Hickman. "You two are under arrest."

With this statement the florid skipper wrenched open a drawer of his desk. He grasped a revolver reposing there.

Doc's bronze hand floated out and came to rest on Captain Hickman's right elbow. Tightening, the corded bronze digits seemed to bury themselves in the florid man's flesh.

Captain Hickman's fingers splayed open and let the gun drop. He spat a stifled cry of pain.

Renny scooped up the fallen weapon.

Jong, the first mate, pitched into the sitting room, drawn by his skipper's cry. Renny let Jong look into the noisy end of the revolver, saying: "I wouldn't start anything, mister!"

Doc released Captain Hickman's elbow. The skipper doubled over, whining with agony, nursing his hurt elbow against his egg of a stomach. At the same time he goggled at Doc's metallic hand, as ?though unable to believe human fingers could have hurt him so.

Jong stood with hands half uplifted, saying nothing.

"We'll go interview the radio operator," Doc declared.

THE radio installation on the Malay Queen consisted of a large lobby equipped with a counter, where messages were accepted, and two inner rooms holding enormous banks of apparatus.

"The message was genuine, all right!" insisted the radio operator. He gave the call letters of the San Francisco station which had transmitted the missive.

Seating himself at the semiautomatic "bug" which served in lieu of a sending key, Doc called the shore station and verified this fact.

"Let's see your file of sent messages!" Doc directed the operator.

A brief search turned up one which had been "marked off" as sent not more than twenty minutes ago. It was in code, the words meaningless.

"Who filed this?"

"I don't know," insisted the radio man. "I discovered it lying on the counter, together with the payment for transmission and a swell tip. Some one came in and left it without being observed."

"This Tom Too must be half ghost!" Renny muttered. He still held the captain's revolver, although neither the skipper of the Malay Queen nor First Mate Jong were offering resistance.

Doc studied the cipher message. It read:

JOHN DUCK

HOTEL KWANG SAN FRANCISCO

DTOSS EARVR AAGSE IAHBR OOAFR ODIRDA

There was no signature. Radiograms are often unsigned, which made this fact nothing unusual.

"Whew!" Renny grunted. "Can you make heads or tails of that mess of letters, Doc? It seems to be a five-letter code of some kind."

"The last word has six letters," Doc pointed out. "Let's see what a little experimenting will do to it."

Seating himself before a sheet of blank paper, a pencil in hand, Doc went to work on the cipher. His pencil flew swiftly, trying different combinations of the letters.

Five minutes later he got it.

"The thing is simple, after all," he smiled.

"Yeah?" Renny grunted doubtfully.

"The first cipher letter is the first in the translated message," Doc said rapidly. "The second cipher letter is the last in the message. The third cipher letter is the second in the message; the fourth cipher letter is next to the last in the message, and so on. The letters are merely scrambled systematically!"

"Hey!" gasped Renny. "I'm dizzy already."

"It sounds complicated until you get it down on paper. Here, I'll show you."

Doc put down the cipher as it stood.

DTOSS EARYR AAGSE IAHBR OOAFR ODIRDA

Under that he wrote the translation.

DOCSAVAGEABOARDRADIOFORHISARREST

Renny scowled at this. Then its meaning became clear — the words were merely without spacing.

"Doc Savage aboard. Radio for his arrest!" he read aloud.

"The Instructions Tom Too sent to a confederate in San Francisco," Doc explained. "Evidently they had agreed upon a course of action should we be discovered aboard."

POWERFUL equipment was a part of the installation aboard the Malay Queen. Using this, it was possible for passengers aboard to carry on a telephone conversation with any one ashore, exactly as though there was a wire connection.

Using this, Doc now proceeded to do some detective work.

He called the Hotel Kwang in San Francisco.

"Have you a guest registered under the name of John Duck?" he asked.

"John Duck checked out only a few moments ago," the hotel clerk informed him.

Doc's second call was to the San Francisco police chief. He cut in a loud-speaker so every one in the Malay Queen radio room could hear what the police chief had to say.

"Have you received any request to arrest Doc Savage," Doc asked.

"Certainly not!" replied the San Francisco official. "We have a suggestion from the New York police that we offer Savage every possible cooperation."

Doc rested his golden eyes on Captain Hickman. "You satisfied?"

Captain Hickman's ruddy face glistened with perspiration. "I — er — yes, of course."

Doc severed his radio connection with San Francisco.

"I wish your cooperation," he told Captain Hickman. "Whether you give it or not is up to you. But if you refuse, you may rest assured you will lose your command of this ship within thirty minutes."

Captain Hickman mopped at his face. He was bewildered, angry, a little scared.

Doc noted his indecision. "Call your owners. Ask them about it."

The Malay Queen commander hurriedly complied. He secured a radio-land-line connection with the headquarters of his company in San Francisco He gave a brief description of the situation.

"What about this man Savage?" he finished.

He was wearing earphones. The others did not hear what he was told.

But Captain Hickman turned about as pale as his ruddy face permitted. His hands shook as he placed the headset on the table. He stared at Doc as if wondering what manner of man the big bronze fellow was.

"I have been ordered to do anything you wish, even to turning my command over to you," he said briskly.

First Mate Jong stared as if this was hard to believe. Then he made a gesture of agreement. "I will start an immediate search of the ship. And I can promise you it will be done so smoothly no one will as much as know it is going on."

He hurried out.

Doc and Renny returned to the royal suite.

Renny eyed Doc curiously. "Just what kind of a pull have you got with the company that owns this boat, anyhow?"

"Some months ago the concern got pinched for money," Doc said slowly, reluctantly. "Had it ceased operating, several thousand men would have been out of jobs. A loan of mine tided them over."

RENNY sank heavily into a chair. At times he felt a positive awe of the mighty bronze man. This was one of the occasions.

It was not the fact that Doc was wealthy enough to take an important hand in a commercial project such as this, that took Renny's breath. It was the uncanny way such things as this turned up — the way the bronze man seemed to have a finger in affairs in every part of the world.

Renny knew Doc Possessed fabulous wealth, a golden treasure.trove alongside which the proverbial ransom of a king paled into insignificance. Doc had a fortune great enough to buy and sell some nations.

Renny had seen that treasure. The sight of it had left him dazed for weeks. It lay in the lost Valley of the Vanished, a chasm in the impenetrable mountains of the Central American republic of Hidalgo. This strange place was peopled by a golden-skinned folk, pure-blooded descendants of the ancient Mayan race. They guarded the wealth. And they sent burro trains of it to the outside world as Doc needed it.

There was one string attached to the wealth — Doc was to use it only in projects which would benefit humanity. The Mayans had insisted Upon that. It was to he used for the cause of right.

Their insistence was hardly needed, for it would not have received any other disposition at Doc's hands. Doc's life was dedicated to that same creed — to go here and there, from one end of the world to the other, striving to help those who needed help, punishing those who were malefactors.

This was the one thing that motivated Doc's every act.

The same creed bound his five men to Doc. That, and their love of adventure, which was never satisfied.