Dent Lester - Trouble On Parade

Admittance to the bar was gained through 2 wide swinging doors of pale blue glass. Doc shoved open the right one and Smith the left. They entered!

A round-faced man turned to face them with an upraised glass, inviting, “Come on in and join the fun.”

Then his face went slack.

“We will,” Disappointed Smith assured him.

Then Smith picked up a metal chair and threw it indiscriminately at the group with remarkable success. He felled 2 men!

Doc suddenly realized he didn't have a gun. He made for the barkeeper's domain behind the bar where there was plenty of ammunition in the form of bottles.

The shipwreck victims piled into the place. One of them calmly seated himself at a table … took an aiming rest with both elbows on the table … and began shooting people in the legs.

The bartender — an extremely fat man — produced a shotgun from under the bar and turned with it. But he was upset awkwardly from the bottle which Doc Savage threw.

A man left the far end of the bar … got a running start … and passed through a large window — seemingly oblivious of the glass — without breaking his racing stride.

Doc shouted, “Get your hands up! Everybody!”

Only one man obeyed the command. And unfortunately Si Hedges was at the moment raising a chair to club him. Mistaking the lifted hands for an offensive gesture, Hedges drove the chair down on the man's head, changing the contour of his features considerably.

Another man — badly confused — mistook the reflection of a window in a large wall mirror for a real window and ran full-speed into it. He went down with the breaking glass.

There were 3 shots closely spaced and 4 others more scattered. Disappointed Smith joined Doc behind the bar, seized bottles, tucked them under his left arm, then leaned over the bar and began sharp-shooting with the missiles.

“Those bottles,” Doc warned, “will fracture a man's skull.”

Smith's “I sure hope so!” was bloodthirsty.

There was no more shooting. Hands began going up.

Another man escaped via a window.

Disappointed Smith — with a bottle poised — searched for a target.

“Hell!” he said disgustedly. “They're surrendering.”

Doc discovered Mix Walden — standing just inside the door — pointing successively at different men on the floor. She was counting, apparently.

“There's only 3 unaccounted for,” she announced. “Not counting the pair who got out through the windows.”

Smith began reloading his revolver.

“No more shooting unless we have to,” Doc directed.

“What,” asked Smith, “do you plan to use on the remaining three? The evil-eye?”

“We'll see what some loud, angry talk will accomplish,” Doc said.

Mr. Flinch, the manager (now ex-manager) of the Central House Hotel in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia had became rather indignant.

He felt — he had stated several times — that he had cooperated with the authorities and so he didn't see why he should be thrown in jail. Didn't they appreciate what he had done to help? Hadn't he signed a statement that Stanley K. Foreman operated a refuge for criminals? And hadn't he stated he would so testify in court, proving his testimony by evidence that the crook clients had used his — Mr. Flinch's — hotel as a way-station en route to Parade Island.

They carted him off to the bastille anyway.

“Poor Mr. Flinch,” said Disappointed Smith with pleasure. “His idea of innocence is overdeveloped.”

Captain McCollomb — a United States Coast Guard official — carefully folded Mr. Flinch's signed and witnessed statement.

He remarked, “This is going to cost that guy Foreman plenty. It seems that he posted a bond of 50,000 dollars which he guaranteed to pay each-and-every crook who was caught while under his protection. How many'd we get? 13, wasn't it? What's 50,000 dollars times 13?”

Doc Savage remarked that it was a good afternoon's salary.

“It's 650,000 smackeroos!” supplied Disappointed Smith. His voice contained awe.

Smith — Doc Savage reflected — should not be occupying his time becoming awed about 650,000 dollars.

Doc suspected that Disappointed Smith didn't really have 650,000 dollars on his mind at all. He probably had Jane Walden on his mind and was too backward to do anything about it.

Jane Walden was on the other side of the room with her sister Mix. Even Doc Savage (who felt certain that reading a woman's mind was the least dependable thing he did) was sure that Jane was in love with Disappointed Smith. And from Smith's actions during the trouble, Smith was in love with Jane.

“Smith,” Doc said.

“Eh?”

“You,” Doc said, “are always full of poetry and quotations.”

“Well, I …”

“Which you have a facility for using at the wrong time.”

“Huh?”

“I think,” said Doc, “that I shall deliver a quotation myself. It is from Shakespeare.”

Doc examined the ceiling for a moment thoughtfully … then delivered his quotation:

“I never tempted her with word too large,

But as a brother to his sister, show'd,

Bashful sincerity and comely love."

Smith's mouth fell open … then closed … and his ears began to partake of fire enginecoloring. He looked at Jane.

“Jane,” Smith said.

Jane smiled at him. “Well?”

“Jane,” said. Smith.

He swallowed.

“Yes?”

“I … uh … Jane…”

“You,” Jane said, “are in a rut.”

“I …”

Doc glanced at Mix and said in alarm, “At least his words are getting shorter!”

Mix took Doc's arm.

“Come on, smart-aleck! Before you stop what you started.”

They went outside.

“Maybe we'd better stick around,” Doc suggested, “in case Smith runs entirely out of words.”

“He won't,” Mix said. “Come on. Let's you and I have dinner. Maybe we can find something to quarrel about.”

Doc grinned. He imagined Smith would get along all right even if he did lose his words.

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

From war-ravaged Manila to an ocean liner bound for chaos, Doc races to solve 3 mysteries at once.

The kidnapping of one of his valuable crew. The sinister secret behind a strange dancing girl.

And the identity of a power-crazed dictator more malevolent that Hitler!

read "The Screaming Man (#154)"!

(November/1945)