Chapter III

16

STRANGE FISH

He scowled at the floor for a while. He said, “This scares me. I was never up against such a thing before.” He continued to scowl. Then he looked up suddenly. “You ever know my cousin Theodore?”

“The one in Army Intelligence?”

“That's him. Here, I want to show you a letter from Ted.” He went away, evidently to his cabin. He came back with a typed letter and said, “Here's the part that I want you to see.”

Paris read the paragraph. Theodore, she gathered, was in England, and lately he had met a civilian with whom he was impressed. Theodore mentioned meeting the man in much the same spirit that he would have said he'd met Bob Hope or General Eisenhower. The man's name was Doc Savage. Johnny was watching her intently.

“Mean anything to you?” he asked.

“I've heard of Doc Savage.”

“So have I, but I probably wouldn't have thought of him if Ted hadn't mentioned him in this letter.” Johnny grinned at her. “What do you think?”

Paris stared at him, surprised. “It sounds—well—a little wild.”

“I know. But what happened to us tonight is wild. All I know of Doc Savage is what I've heard, which is that he is a trouble−shooter. Something like a private detective, only he doesn't work for fees. He works on things that are unusual enough to interest him. And if this business of the fat man doesn't come under that heading, I'd like to know what would.”

“You're talking,” asked Paris, “about getting Doc Savage to investigate this?”

“Yes. What do you think of it?”

“I don't know,” Paris said. “I've always associated Savage with big things, international affairs. Fantastic adventures. We're not very important, Johnny.”

“My neck is as important to me as anybody's,” Johnny Toms declared. “Is it okay to buzz this Savage on the telephone?”

“Go ahead. It's all right with me.”

Johnny grinned. “I know how you feel. Maybe I won't have any luck. But at least we will have tried.”

“We don't even know whether he is in America.”

“His headquarters is in New York,” Johnny Toms said. “The long−distance operator should be able to get it.”

PUTTING the long−distance call through to New York took twenty minutes. Whoever answered the telephone was evidently not Doc Savage. Johnny Toms looked worried. He said, “I've got some strange trouble down here. Could I talk to Doc Savage personally?”

A moment later, Johnny looked astonished. He stared at Paris, breathed. “By golly, I got him!”