The Sandman's page

Seriously, a twig? Sigh.

"Tarantula! It is time you had a reckoning! A reckoning with the lord of dreams!" The Sandman, being spotted, looms out of the shadows at poor Ted Crossart, attempting to intimidate the thug!

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, Crossart! Make it easy on yourself. Start with the purpose of the gathering you attending this evening!"

I'm fine with getting weaker. The Sandman is willing to pull his punches so the local heroes get some shine.

The Sandman continues watching, trying to remember faces and details. "This is a wretched stake out. But I wonder what old Tarantula is up to here?" Assuming nothing interesting happens, the Sandman will continue to watching the goons and then try to follow Ted Crossart when he leaves.

I remember when I was younger, I got a stack of old comics from a local used book store. A pile of Legion of Superheroes and some All-Star Squadrons. The All-Star Squadrons featured a Tarantula, who, initially, had a costume almost exactly like the 2nd Sandman costume. I suspect now that Roy Thomas had written a story explaining why the Sandman and the Tarantula had similar costumes. That's a very Roy Thomas thing to do.

"Darn. I don't imagine the poker and chips part of the evening will be very illuminating," The Sandman thought to himself. He tries to get a closer look at the "parishioners." Does he recognize any of them?

"I do wish Dr. Fate or the Spectre were here. They could probably tell me if any of this mystical mumbo-jumbo meant anything. Perhaps I'll be able to figure out if any of these guys cheat at poker."

A chance of being seen? I guess the Sandman will slink off into the night . . .

Oh wait. That's not how these stories go. Using his grapple, the Sandman tries to quietly lower himself behind some crates, hoping to figure out what these fellows are up to. "More weirdos. I just want to get back to beating on mobsters and saboteurs."

"Well, since I don't understand what they are saying, I guess I should slip in a get a better view."

The Sandman finds a way into the building, using the skylight most likely and tries to maneuver himself in position to get a closer look at the ceremony.

"Hmmm . . . These fellas look more like like Dr. Fate's sort of foes. Not the usual sort of riff-raff that I have to deal with."

The Sandman considers blasting them with gas, but remembers that he is here to figure out what is going on, not to just bust criminal head, so he tries to quietly open the roof door and slip into the building, hoping to not only see what the fellows below were up to, but to also hear what they were up to.

"Equinox," the Sandman thought to himself, "I better keep that in mind. Well, I suppose I can't just knock, especially in this get up, so up and in I go!"

The Sandman scuttles up the fire escape, hoping to either find a way inside or at least a vantage point on what salt and pepper beard is up to inside.

I have no objection to merging or joining with the other group.

Of course Wesley has a butler named Humphries. What sort of playboy scientist would he be without a butler?

Taking a chance, the Sandman creeps closer to the man. "Hmm . . . do I know you?" The Sandman thinks to himself, trying to figure out how the thin man fit into all of this mess.

The Sandman spends a few moments watching the area, seeing if anyone is coming and going. Assuming nothing interesting happens, he will attempt to silently climb the fire escape, trying to find an entrance to the building, beside the front door.

Wesley returns home and tries to decide what to do first: visit Jim Long or check out the warehouse at night.

"Guess I'll stop by the warehouse and if it's a bust, I'll see about rounding up Mr. Long." Wesley dons the garb of the mysterious Sandman and races into the night, eager to torment the dreams of ne'er do wells everywhere.

What do you mean? Was there something suggestive there?

"Well, Dian, it looks like the Sandman needs to make two visits today. He'll have to have a chat with Jim Long. And he also needs to check out this address. Maybe I'll drop you off and then run a few errands."

Assuming Dian doesn't object, Wesley will drop her off at her house and then cruise out to the address, just to see what the joint looks like in the day time.

Wesley smiles. "Uh, you want to give me the address? I guess you can do that. I think I can get it to, uh, interested parties. Maybe." He quickly winks to Dian. "But you should also tell what you know to the cops. I was just to here to help Ms. Belmont here on a science project."

Wesley pauses. "But, I am worried. I dabble a bit in science. Here and there. How exactly did Mr. X contact you? And why do you think he knew to reach out to you? I'm a bit worried, y'know. Don't want to end up like you: In trouble because Mr. X made me an offer I can't refuse."

Wesley Dodds, independently wealthy playboy, knowing a good idea when he hears one, decides that he needs to interview these strange scientists. Perhaps, as a concerned potential investor, he can wheedle some more information about Mr. X from the bearded inventors.

Calling his sweetheart, the lovely Dian Belmont, he once again conspires to pursue justice with the unwitting aid of her father, DA Belmont.

"Hey Dian, it seems that the rest of the JSA are chasing all over Indian Country. I want to talk to those car freaks from yesterday, think you can help?"

"Oh yeah, that guy. I think we got distracted with all the talk of demons. I think we're going to have to wait on that plan. Fate's buried himself in the library. Maybe I should go talk to one of the scientists. Something I can do while the others spend their time chasing mumbo-jumbo."

The Sandman, or rather Wesley Dodds, does indeed take the day off. And the next day, he heads over to Dian's to catch up on whatever news he can uncover regarding the DA and any troubles in New York.

If he doesn't hear anything, he will spend some time with Dian and then head home, hoping to catch up with the JSA news.

"I do enjoy walking into traps. It is always the best way to figure out who is a friend and who is a foe. So how do we get to this tomb? Should we head to a library and research? Or maybe the Spectre knows? He's even spookier than you, Dr. Fate."

"I think I am a bit slow here. Goetic demons? What does that mean? And could this be a trap. How hard would it be for Mr. X. to get O'Dell here to tell us this story? Or to get a demon to tell him to tell us this story? No offense meant, Mr. O'Dell."

And I am back.

"Wait, is the Demon of the Pillar, the demon we dealt with earlier? And who is the White Magician? I'll be honest, none of this makes much sense to me."

The Sandman scratches his head and pantomimes confusion. "As far as I can tell Mr. X is using both science and sorcery to battle us. Does anyone know someone who is a master of both?"

I'll be out of town for about a week, starting tomorrow, Tuesday. I can't predict my internet access, so feel free to push old Sandy along for the sake of plot and action.

"Well, it is a regular Society meeting! I'm glad you chimed in Fate. What do you think about Belmont's plan to cut Mitsuhirato loose and see where he leads us? You know more about Mitsuhirato than the rest of us," The Sandman asks.

"I don't know about magic," the Sandman continues, "but Mr. X seems to have his hands in all sort of weird science too." The Sandman briefly describes his encounter with the automobile-wielding hirsute scientists and then continues: "So it might be worthwhile to talk to some of these guys and see what else they might know. All of Mr. X's minions seem to be blackmailed buffoons, so who knows?"

"Maybe, I will get some rest," Wesley says and after getting Dian off the phone, he does, taking the chance to get a bit of needed sleep.

After his nap, Wesley spends a few minutes trying to hail the Justice Society on their super secret radio frequency, hoping to exchange information with whoever is out there. And also hoping to run DA Belmont's plan past Dr. Fate.

If he fails to raise anyone, he will head over to the Belmont's, hoping that Dian has saved him some snooping trouble.

Discovering little from his investigations, Wesley calls up Dian.

"Dian, how are those three scientists doing? No, I'm fine. I might need to talk to your dad later. Or maybe old Gasface will have to make another visit. Perhaps you could do some preliminary inquiries. Learn out if any of those scientists have talked to the cops and if your Dad or the wonder DA have figured anything out. I'll be over later, if I can."

"These men need help," the Sandman shouted as he saw the authorities enter the park. "Worry about saving them. They might have information that can end Mr. X's reign of terror. Worry about me second."

Hoping that the cops and paramedics will focus on the wounded, the Sandman tries to gather some of the debris from one of the controllers. "Maybe I'll be able to figure something out. Especially about how Mr. X managed to trigger the explosion," he thinks to himself. Then he tries to slip away.

The Sandman leaps at the burning man, whipping off his cloak, hoping to use it to put out the fires. While doing so, he looks around, looking for ambulances, police, or other people who might be able to save the scientist.

"The one time I need the authorities . . . "

"Doctor, I'd love to talk technical details with you, but you need to tell me who was blackmailing you and how. That's your best chance for avoiding the full consequences of your actions. Oh, and you should try to step away from your devices. They're blinking malignantly."

The Sandman tries to kick the devices away from himself and the scientist before they can do any harm.

On hearing Dr. Pipkin's ominous words, the Sandman begins scanning the area for whatever is about to come next. Trying to notice things

"Who was blackmailing you? And how did this person communicate to you? The cops'll be here soon, so you better start rehearsing your explanations. Also: If you just wanted to turn on a car before you got into it, why'd you add all the steering features. Simple solutions first. I think William of Ockham formulated that bit of wisdom"

"Fantastic," The Sandman says, trying to conceal his injuries. "I hope you are not allergic to metal," he says as he takes out his pair of handcuffs and begins to bind the two men.

"Now, before the police finally get here. You two need to talk: who are you and what were you hoping to accomplish? I'd hate to hit an unarmed man, but you did just hit me with a car, or two." The Sandman glowers.

"Is there any way to get out of this traffic while still stopping those bearded weirdos?" the Sandman wonders to himself, knowing that, no matter the danger, he has to stop those miscreants from endangering any one else.

He glances around, looking for a way to get off the street while still reaching his foes. If he finds a route he will take it. If he can't, the Sandman will have to continue on his dangerous path. He is a hero after all, no matter what the police and papers think!

Seeing his prey attempting to escape, the Sandman will leap after them, hoping to pummel the two men into unconsciousness.

But first, he will try to quickly grab the machine that was being used by the fallen man, hoping to get a chance to analyze the device later.

The Sandman tries to dodge the oncoming car and scamper up into a tree, thinking that up in the trees is safer than on the road, still driving towards the three strange hirsute men.

Never one for waiting, the Sandman climbs into a nearby tree and then leaps from one tree to another, getting closer and closer to his targets, the bearded trio.

Once he reaches the tree nearest his opponents he leaps across the street, trying to dodge any of the out of control traffic. Once he is close enough, he will lob a gas grenade at his foes before launching himself at the bewhiskered opponents.

"Three against one. Not the best odds," the Sandman mutters to himself. He quickly scans the area, looking for some way to get closer to the men without being spotted.

Assuming he finds some method, the Sandman will try to get a better glimpse of the devices the bearded gentlemen are using, trying to get some understanding of the methods behind this madness.

If that isn't possible, or after a moment of inspection, the Sandman will launch a gas grenade at the beardos and launch himself at the miscreants.

"Well, Dian," Wesley smiles, "That's my cue. If that multiple car pileup with mysterious motivation isn't the sign of some malignant presence, I don't know what is."

Wesley considers his options, "Howabout you get me within five blocks of Washington Square and then I'll do the whole crime busting thing, Dian? I've already brought my gear," Wesley smiles, pointing to a briefcase in the back of the car. "But I know that your father would never forgive me, let alone old Sandy, if I let you get too close to any dire happenings."

The Sandman spends a few hours trying to hail Dr. Fate, or, if that proves impossible the Spectre–oh heck, he'd take Dr. Occult if it came down to it–hoping to get some advice about dealing with Mitsuhirato I am spelling that right, right? Alas my TinTin is not as mighty as many.

Assuming he fails to hail any experts in the mystic arts, the Sandman leaves a note for the DA:

"Let the criminal slip our leash so that we can snare his master!"

That day, Wesley will spend some time with Dian, checking to see if her father has any message for Ol' Gasface.

"Unfortunately, we know very little about Mr. X. We've managed to bust a number of his lieutenants, but most of them have claimed that X was threatening them. I'd watch out for thugs, wizards, and giant lizards. But I doubt that any of them will show up at police headquarters. Also watch out for Germans and Japanese."

"Special Fountain of Powers?" The Sandman wonders aloud as he begins to leave, hoping to contact Dr. Fate on JSA radio before releasing Mitsuhirato. "I guess that's no stranger than the explanations offered by Fate, the Flash, Hawkman or, goodness knows, the Spectre."

"Perhaps," the Sandman continues, "you can keep an eye on the prison–See who's coming to visits these lieutenants–while I try to contact Dr. Fate about a plan to lure Mr. X into the open."

He pauses and, despite the gas mask, the Red Tornado can tell that he is considering her outfit. "Unless you've got some high tech radio equipment in there and can contact Dr. Fate while also figuring out how Mr. X is communicating with his henchmen."

You can hear the smile behind the mask. "I assume that is just a pot on your head, but you can never tell. Look at the Flash–he's got a soup bowl on his head."

I am always just a little late to the party. Turns out our internet access in Bethel was quite spotty. I had to walk to the library to borrow access from a branch campus of the University of Alaska. But I'm back in the lower 48 and ready to catch up.

And I have no problem with you posting as me to keep things moving. Thanks.

"It is a fine plan, Belmot; but I will have to consult with Dr. Fate. Mitsuhirato is his foe. Perhaps he would have some thoughts regarding the advisability of releasing Mitsuhirato. Have you interrogated the man? Does he know anything of our Mr. X?"

Folks, I am out of town for the next two weeks. I am in Alaska and will be traveling to Bethel and don't know what my I telnet situation will be.

"Hmmm . . . ," the Sandman pauses, trying to think of anything else that would be of use to the DA. "Which of Mr. X's lieutenants do you have in custody? The Flash and I tangled with a Dr. Flammond when we rescued your daughter. He was taken into custody by the local sheriff. Last night, Dr. Fate ran into one of his old foes–a Mitsuhirato–as we were disrupting Mr. X's little treasonous shindig."

Is there something else the Sandman should be telling the DA about?

"I fear that this Mitsuhirato was some sort of wizard. I wouldn't believe it myself but . . . well . . . dealing with Dr. Fate has opened my eyes to some things."

The Sandman gives a very visible shrug. "I fear that we at the society have probably not been able to uncover much more that you have. Mr. X controls much of the underworld. He is trying to undermine the United States by forging alliances with the Nazis and the Japanese. He's been using Stauffer Chemicals for some sort of nefarious purpose."

Maybe I should arrange some sort of signal that blazes out over the night. A Sand Signal, perhaps. I can see it now, an hourglass flashing out over the night sky," the Sandman thinks to himself as he swings over to a taller building, and then pauses to consider his surroundings, suspecting threats from both the NYPD and Mr. X. Assuming his finds that he is safe, he will then slide down to the roof of the DA's office.

Mr. Belmont? the Sandman hisses, trying to catch the attention of whoever is waiting for him on the roof.

After setting up a meeting for his alter ego, Wesley, along with Mr. Belmont, rejoins Dian and the incomparable Ed. "So, Dian did you manage to get any driving tips off of our friend here?" Wesley smile. "Ed, you might consider trying to get some tips on interrogation from Dian, she's craftier than she looks."

Not sure if there is more information to be gathered here, Wesley plans on sticking around until he and Dian are chased off by the two DAs.

If nothing more occurs, we can move along to . . .

That evening Wesley dons the garb of the Sandman, heading out a bit early to make his meeting with DA Belmont, hoping to case the joint, just in case of a trap.

Wesley tries to look suitably rebuked by Belmont's chastisement of his foolishness. "Yeah, I know the Sandman is dangerous. I was hoping that, through him, I could reach the rest of the Justice Society. But it certainly looks like Mr. X has got all of their attention by now."

"I'll see what I can do. Perhaps you should work late at your office tonight? Or is there some other place that would be best. I'd hate to have Gasface show up at your home."

Wesley gives a sheepish smile. "Well . . . I've had some dealings with the Sandman. I know you don't trust him. Can't really blame you, but . . . well, my friend had that trouble with the Gentleman Gorilla a little while back and I sort of got in touch when Dian was in trouble. I was desperate. But I think he could put us in touch with the Society if it is needed."

Who in the FBI do we deal with?

"Have you heard of any more threats to you or Dian? Maybe Mr. X has moved on to other schemes. Or maybe, with all the trouble with the Justice Society and the Germans, he'll lay low for a while." Wesley pauses. "Yeah, I suppose that's pretty unlikely."

"I doubt that Dian is really going to go on vacation with all the trouble recently. Maybe if you went with her, but I fear that the city needs you here."

"I don't know if you can take comfort that Mr. X has got the attention of the Justice Society, but I do. Even if the Sandman is a bit of the loose cannon. The whole team seems to be okay. I imagine they'll be looking out for you and for Dian. I almost hate to suggest this, since I recognize that it is a bit irregular, but have you ever considered trying to compare notes with them? Maybe if the DA's office and the Society exchanged notes, you all would be able to figure something out about Mr. X." Wesley pauses. "But maybe that would get you in trouble. That's probably illegal. But maybe if someone could act as an inbetween. Someone that could take the fall if it turns out to be trouble."

"I haven't really heard any that, Mr. Belmont. I just sorta put two and two together. A blimp lands at the sight of some sort of vigilante slugfest. Blimps point to Germany. Listen," Wesley drops his voice, expressing concern,"I know that this isn't really my place, but how much do you know about Mr. X. I mean he kidnapped Dian last week. Is still in trouble? Are you? Thank goodness for the Justice Society, but I 'd like to be able to do what I can to protect her."

On the way over to the jail: "That's just the problem, Ed. I drive too slow. I'm too boring and conventional to be the Belmont's driver. But you're perfect for the job. It's your calling."

Talking to D.A. Belmont. "That blimp last night? It was German, right? I guess you all are trying to keep things quiet, but that's pretty obvious. Any idea why the Germans were trying to get close to Mr. X? Mr. X is a criminal right? This seems rather close to treason. I mean I know that we aren't at war with Germany, but that just seems like a matter of time."