The Night of the Broken Heart

[diddlepie]

Summary: A plot for revenge against the newly reunited country leads Gordon and West into a complicated plan involving one of our favorite villains.




THE NIGHT OF THE BROKEN HEART

It had been a perfect night. If he were to die now, he’d be the happiest man in the world. Little did he know that it would be a very real premonition of what was to come.

The performance had been brilliant, the cast superb. The audience conveyed to a level of humanity and human emotional unparalleled and only achieved by the master playwright himself, Shakespeare. It was hard to find good theater outside of New York especially for Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”. Seeing the play here in St Louis was extraordinary and the fact it was produced by the British Shakespeare Company made it beyond belief.

With tears in his eyes, Artemus Gordon rose to his feet with the audience for a standing ovation. The actors deeply bowed their gratitude, and along with all the other emotions that washed over him, there was a twinge of regret that he had given up such noble pageantry to join the Secret Service 5 years ago. But such were the decisions that one made in life and although he never got standing ovations for his performances these days, he knew his acting prowess had saved many lives, often his own and that of his partner, Jim West.

He was brought out of his brief muse by a gentle hand touching his arm. His delightful and lovely companion Amelia Eastcott looked up at him with her deep blue eyes, “Artemus, that was wonderful!” she said.

Oh yes, the perfect night he thought to himself again. He’d meet Amelia at a society function in which he and his partner had provided security. He had been attracted to her delicate beauty, and love of the arts. What he didn’t know was she had been equally attracted by his dark good looks, and worldly manner. The fact that he worked in dangerous situations and traveled the country in a lavishly furnished personal train only made him that much more appealing.

They had spent the last 4 days together, picnicking in the country side, dining at the finest establishments, and enjoying the theater. They made a handsome couple, Jim said. Artemus always enjoyed dressing well and with Amelia on his arm clothed in the finest New York had to offer, they garnered looks from both men and women.

Amelia was from a well to do New York family that had made its fortune in supplying timber to the railroads. She had recently moved to St Louis by herself to set up a new office. She had a keen sense for business and the ability to get things done. Their romance has been a heady whirlwind of activity. Jim was glad for both of them as Artie needed some time to himself, and what could be better than to enjoy it with someone who enjoyed the finer things in life as much as Artie did.

After the show, they took a hired carriage back to her home with a brief stop for a glass of wine and light fare.

The street lanterns were dimming due to the late hour when they arrived at her brick townhome on a quiet stately street. He instructed the driver to wait while he walked her to the door. The most perfect night of my life, he thought again as he gazed into her sparkling blue eyes.

“Artemus, you will be coming back to St Louis?” she asked.

“Oh yes, I know I will, but it could be awhile and I don’t expect you to wait for me,” he said. “You are a beautiful, charming and brilliant woman and I know I can not keep you all to myself.”
He kissed her hand and then moved on to her willing soft lips as his hands encircled her waist drawing her in closer.

When they separated she blushed in a most seductive way. She spoke confidently but with a generous hint of flirtatiousness, “Mr Artemus Gordon, I’ll be here when you return and you shall always be welcome at my home.” He watched her enter the house, and turned down the brick stairs. The smell of fragrant flowers that lined the walk lingered as he headed for the rented hack.

He noticed it had pulled further down the street. There must be a watering trough there he casually thought as he walked towards it. Even though it was dark he became aware of two men approaching quickly from the opposite direction.

The intoxication of the magical evening was broken as the men split as they approached, apparently intending to walk one on either side of him. Artemus had learned long ago you never let anyone box you in unless they were sworn friends and he had more enemies these days then friends.

He stepped aside as they began to pass, touching the corner of his hat in a friendly gesture. He could see these men were not theater goers but rough looking fellows, the kind often set out for robbery or worse. Although Artemus Gordon was never the trained fighter his partner was, he had learned over the years how to defend himself. A few lessons from Jim hadn’t hurt either.

As they approached, he slammed the closest man in the jaw with his raised hand that a moment ago had been feigning a greeting. The man spun down in a heap of surprised alarm. The second man attacked immediately throwing a wild punch that glanced off the agent’s check. Artemus recovered quickly and was getting ready to hit back when a third man came up behind him, and attempted to get a beefy arm around his neck. He threw his elbow into the new comer’s stomach breaking the choke hold and sending the thug flying back.

But now the first man was on his feet again. He grabbed the agent from behind and successfully wrapped a strong arm around his neck and pinned his left arm behind him with a painful twist.

The other two attackers were on their feet with determination and hate in their eyes. With all his strength, Artemus throw his weight back on the man who had him in the strangle hold and kicked out powerfully with his legs as they closed in on him. He hit one of them squarely in the chest throwing the man onto the ground, but the other assailant hit him in the jaw with a staggering blow.

Momentarily stunned he was getting ready for a second blow when a sweet smelling rag was pressed firmly against his nose and mouth. He recognized instantly the sickening smell of chloroform, and knew he had only one more chance to free himself before it took effect.

He held his breath as he grappled with his free hand to pull the chloroform mask off his face. Unfortunately it caused the man who had the choke hold on him to lose his balance and fall backwards taking Artemus and the other attacker with him. In the fall he managed to free his left arm, and having both hands available Artemus knew this was last chance to try and save himself. His lungs were pounding to expel air as he continued to hold his breath knowing that as soon as he took a breath he would be lost to the effect of the drug.

One of the attackers yelled to pin his hands but don’t kill him!

Suddenly the third man was on top of him roughly grabbing his arms and shoving them to the ground. “Come on you sucker, breathe!” one of them grunted.

His lungs were burning now and a punch to the gut forced out the air he had been holding. He coughed and sputtered as he involuntarily took in a chest full of the drug. The last thing he remembered thinking was the chloroform dosage was way too high as it burned its way into his sinuses, throat and down to the bottom of his chest.

The night was quite again except for the soft clip clop of the approaching coach.

“Is he out?” the shortest of them said.

“Yeah, he’s out. Good thinking, hitting him in the stomach.”

The thug who was lying on top slid off and put his ear on the unconscious man’s chest. “Yup, he’s out and he’s alive. That equals full payment”!

“That was supposed to be easy!” muttered the brute who was caught under the limp agent, “Now stop your yapping and get him off-ame!”

In the dark the three men hauled the unconscious man to his feet and with one on either side of him they dragged him to the waiting coach.

“Yah, I thought the little man said that catching this one wouldn’t be as hard as his partner,” the short one grumbled as they dumped Artemus’s body into the coach.

None of them looked back to see the horrified face that peaked from the window of the stately brick town house.

[diddlepie]

Jim West had been up before the sun. They were pulling out this morning heading for San Francisco. The trip would take several days and traveling through the mountain passes was a feat to be attempted only in the daylight so they had to make use of all the sun they had.

The only problem was Artemus wasn’t on board. He knew he had a theater engagement with Amelia the night before and even if he had been invited to stay into the evening, Jim doubted he would. First, Artemus Gordon was a far too principled man to ever take advantage of a lady even if he was asked to, and secondly Artemus was just never late. A left over from his theater days Jim figured.

He was beginning to worry. He decided he’d let the horses get some fresh air as they were going to be confined for a few days as the train traveled. He opened the box car door and was greeted by contented huffing from the horses inside. His own black stallion shook his head excitedly hoping for a run with his master.

Mesa, Artemus’s horse, stamped her foot impatiently probably looking for a treat. Artie never had the need for a spirited horse and often said Jim was crazy for ever riding such a handful as the black. How different they were, he reflected. He was an adrenaline junkie, never backing down from a fight and usually handily beating all takers. Artemus preferred trickery, using disguises and his acting ability to gain the upper hand, and yet as a team they had an enviable record of successes.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of a fast approaching horse.

“Artemus you devil,” he thought fully expecting to see his partner riding up fast wearing an ear to ear grin.

Instead it was a small dapple grey with a woman riding and wasting no time. As she approached that feeling of worry that had been simmering ever since he found his partner was missing, suddenly went to a boil as he realized it was Amelia Eastcott.

“Where’s Artemus?” he asked as he grabbed the reins.

“Oh, Mr West,” she started to sob. “I think they killed him!”

He helped her slide off the weary animal, and she crumpled into his chest. Her heart was racing but he knew she would need to calm down before she’d be coherent. When he felt her breathing normalize, he said as calmly as he could, “Tell me what happened.”

She said they’d gone to the theater, and stopped on the way back for a glass of sherry.

“Did you have your driver or a rented carriage?” he asked.

“We were going to have my driver take us but my carriage horse somehow had managed to cut his leg badly on something that afternoon so Artemus suggested we take a hack.”

“Did you take the same coach both ways?” She replied that they did because the driver had been so kind as to say he would wait for them after the show so they wouldn’t have to find a carriage when many people would all be looking for one. The hairs were already beginning to stand at the back of Jim’s neck.

“What happened when you got home?”

“Well, Artemus walked me to the door, we spoke for a minute… kissed, and then he waited for me to go inside and he left.” She began to sob. “A few minutes later I heard a scuffle outside my window and I saw two or three men, I couldn’t be sure because it was dark, and they were fighting with him! I yelled for my stable man, John, but he wasn’t in the house. I ran downstairs to look for a gun in the library but there was none. When I looked out the window again, they were dragging him away and he wasn’t moving! I think they killed him, Mr West!”

She began to cry again and he held her close feeling the rush of her emotion.

Controlling his own emotions he said, “I don’t think they killed him, Amelia. If they had they would have left his body. From what you’re telling me I think he was kidnapped. Why I don’t know, but who ever took him wanted him alive.” His mind was churning with the hundreds of possible men who would want to harm his partner. “Is there anything else?” he asked. “Think. Anything at all could be helpful.”

She ran over to her horse and unhooked a dirty sack that was hanging on the saddle horn. “Yes there is. I found this in the bushes. It’s a cloth of some type but I had to wrap it in oil cloth because it smells odd and made me feel sick to even be near it.”

Jim unwrapped the bundle and knew immediately what had been used to kidnap his partner. “Chloroform,” he said throwing it far into the dry grass. “It’s a compound recently invented that causes unconsciousness if inhaled. Artie talked about it and how it was a gift to the medical profession as a surgeon would be able to perform surgery painlessly by rendering the patient unconscious and impervious to pain.”

“Why would anyone want to kidnap Artemus?” she asked.

He lied, “I don’t know, but I need to start looking for him.”

“Do you think he’s alright?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t know that yet either, but I will soon,” he answered.

Her face brightened. “There is another thing: the carriage we rode in. It had new red leather seats in the passenger compartment. We both commented on how festive it looked with red seats instead of the usual black. Does that help?” she said.

“Everything does,” he replied. “Now I want you to go into the train car, have something to eat and rest. I’ll see to it one of the engineers accompanies you back to town.”

“No,” she said, “I’m going with you!”

“I don’t think so. As a matter of fact I KNOW you aren’t. This will be dangerous and nothing for a lady.” Thinking fast he added, “Plus Artemus would KILL me if something happened to you. Now just do what I say, and I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything.”

She began to protest.

“As soon as I know, you’ll know. I promise. And don’t worry, I’ll find him.” He gave her a light kiss on the check and wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

[diddlepie]

He hurt. He hurt everywhere. But it was the pressure on his chest he had to get rid of. Something was crushing his chest and he couldn’t breathe. He heard a croaking sound nearby, a mixture of a cry and a groan. He slowly realized it was his own voice that he was hearing. He wanted to open his eyes but they wouldn’t cooperate. He could feel his heart begin to race as he struggled to get air.

“Easy Mister. You’re alright. There’s nothing on your chest, you need to relax and take small breaths.”

The soothing words were accompanied by cool strong hands that were gentle but firm as they held his hand. He focused on calming the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him, and tried to relax by taking shallow and painful breaths. He wanted to speak but he knew he barely had enough air to stave off suffocation.

The soothing voice continued, a woman’s voice he realized. He began to focus on his surroundings. His was lying on a soft bed of some type. The air was cool to his skin. Although he still couldn’t seem to get his eyes to cooperate, he was able to wiggle his toes and move his leg slightly.

He brought up his free hand to wipe the fog out of his head and the same sweet fingers once again held his hand firmly but gently, preventing him from touching his face. He started to panic again as he realized he had no strength to fight this seeming angel of mercy.

“Easy Mr Gordon. No one is going to hurt you. You’ll just upset yourself if you try to fight and then you’ll be out of breath again,” the woman’s voice softly warned.

“That’s right Mr Gordon. No one is going to hurt you….old friend,” a familiar voice chimed in.
He didn’t have to cut through any confusion to know who that was. “Loveless,” he croaked.

“At your service, sir,” the little man said cheerfully. “Or perhaps I should clarify and say you are at my service, Mr Gordon.”

He managed to get his wayward eyes to finally respond and opened them to see a young woman dressed in plain clothing sitting on one side of him, and Dr Miguelito Loveless seated on the other.

“And pray tell what service do you wish from me, other than to die.” This time his voice came through as a wheeze.

“Oh yes, I am sorry about your condition Mr Gordon. You see I have certainly tried to kill you on multiple occasions in the past, but never to cripple you. I do have morals you know. I just wanted those goons to knock you out and bring you in. I gave them specific instructions on the proper dosage of the chloroform- I’m sure you realize that was my drug of choice- but it’s hard to find good thugs these days. And what did the Neanderthals do? They soaked the cloth in chloroform instead of following my instructions. I’m surprised they didn’t knock themselves unconscious, but I suppose they would have to have some type of brain in order for the drug to have an effect.”

The doctor jumped off his seat and continued to talk as he paced just outside of the agent’s view. “So because of the unnecessarily high dose your heart seems to be out of sinus rhythm, a condition that should correct itself with time, but in the meanwhile if you should exert yourself, you could suffer permanent damage or worse, kill yourself, which of course would save me the trouble. However, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I have no immediate plans for such an undertaking. The good news: I won’t have to use any restraints on you as I doubt you could walk ten feet!” the little man said with a chuckle.

The doctor approached him standing next to his nursemaid. “You see all clouds have silver linings. Now as to your meddlesome friend, Mr West, I have no doubt he’ll track you down and attempt a rescue, which of course is exactly what I want him to do.”

“So you can kill us both,” Artemus wheezed again in a strained voice.

“Oh no, not this time Mr Gordon. As I said you shall be of service to me, and Mr West’s presence will insure your cooperation. As a matter of fact I wouldn’t be surprised if you both decided to assist me willingly when you hear my proposal. But enough of this for now. You need to rest and my lovely Faith is here to help you. I trust you will be a good patient, Mr Gordon, although I don’t think you could put up much of a fuss anyway. But just in case I do have guards all about the building.”

Artemus heard echoing footsteps and then a door close. His mind was already racing, planning for his own escape or at least a way he might be able to warn Jim. He was helpless.

But there might be a way he could use this young woman who was sitting beside him. Perhaps he could convince her to help him either by transporting him out, perhaps in a wheelchair, or by getting a message to Jim. First things first though. He needed to know how long he’d been unconscious, and a man’s beard was a good time piece in a pinch. He raised his hand to feel his face. This time the young woman didn’t stop him, but anticipated his question.

“You’ve been asleep for eight hours. You had only the one dose of chloroform. The doctor did not give you anymore.”

He looked at her more closely now. Being an expert in disguises had made him a keen observer of faces and she had one of the most interesting and pleasing he’d seen in awhile. Her face was broad with high cheekbones and skin the color of desert sand, framed by soft dark hair- almost coal black- but with a touch of auburn. Her eyes were well spaced –not too far apart but not too close, and the color was moss green framed by brows that formed perfect arches. A delicate nose sat in between. He surmised she was of mixed heritage, half Indian, probably Shawnee, and half white. He couldn’t see her torso but he figured she was small, maybe five foot two inches with a strong build. Her English seemed fine so he guessed she had been brought up white, most likely a new settler mixed with native blood.

Women usually fell for strong men put in helpless situations and he thought he’d go for that as his angle. Hell, that’s what he honestly was so no acting was necessary.

“Could you help me sit up?” he whispered.

She put a sturdy arm under his back and swung him up to a seated position. What he thought was a bed turned out to be a sofa and he was able to lean back on a fat soft cushion. The room swam before him, and he had to close his eyes to stop the nausea. The pressure on his chest relieved a bit and he was able to breathe a bit more easily but his limbs all felt like lead and he came to grips with the fact he’d never make it out on his own, at least not like this.

She brought a glass of water up to his lips instructing him to sip slowly. He held her hand with his to steady the glass as he brought it up for another sip, and smiled what he hoped was his most charming smile, and thanked her.

“We’ll try some broth next, Mr Gordon. You need to eat and this was my mother’s favorite recipe.”

[diddlepie]

He’d sent a telegraph to Colonial Richmond as soon as he’d heard Amelia’s story. He didn’t wait for a response though, but headed straight into town. His plan was to stop at the Eastcott stable and then check out the hacks around town. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to find the carriage, but asking a few questions in the right places usually got things going.

He led his black horse around the back of the Eastcott home looking for the stable man. John, he remembered is what Amelia had called him. He found him in the cool shadow of the barn tending to a handsome bay with four white socks, the carriage horse he presumed.

“Hi, I’m looking for John.”

“You found him mister. Can I help you?” John was a tall, thin man with an equally long thin face and mustache, probably in his mid-forties Jim guessed. He looked honest enough but experience had taught him no man was innocent until he proved himself to be, especially when it involved the disappearance of his partner.

“I’m James West, Artemus Gordon’s partner.”

“Oh yes, Mr West I recognize you. I saw you and Mr Gordon together a few times. Say, do you have any news about your friend? Miss Eastcott is worried sick about Mr Gordon.”

“Yes I know. I was hoping you could help me. Is this the horse that went lame yesterday?”

John assured him that it was and it had been the strangest thing. The horse was fine in the morning but when he came to get him mid-afternoon he had blood oozing down his front left leg.

“Did you see anyone around the barn?” Jim asked.

“No one other than the fellow who came around in the morning looking for work. Nice fellow, about your height but stocky. Looked like he was pretty strong too. Good around the horses. I told him we didn’t need any help right now, and he left.”

“Did he say anything else?” Jim asked.

“Oh yah, well he wanted to know a little about Miss Eastcott which I can understand. There aren’t too many business women alone out here. He wasn’t asking anything out of hand, just wanted to know what kinds of things she liked to do. I told him as I matter of fact I was taking her and her beau to the play that night. He didn’t ask anymore just said what a nice lady she must be and left.”

Jim could feel the tightness in his stomach growing.

After talking to John he stopped by a few stables saying he was looking for a specific coach and driver he had used a few days ago because he realized he’d under-paid the driver and he didn’t feel right about leaving town without squaring things.

He described the red seats that Amelia had mentioned. The first few stops turned up nothing but the third was a hit. One of the stable men had seen the carriage. He didn’t know who the rig belonged to only that it was one he hadn’t seen around before. There was a new fellow who ran a couple of hacks and he thought it might be his. He’d bought on old barn on the edge of town and was trying to get started in the business, which needless to say, he was not happy about.

Jim realized the location was near the Eastcott house. Thanking the stable man, Jim mounted his black to head that way.

“Hey mister,” the stable man called after him, “You ever got tired of that horse bring him over here. I’ll pay you a right good price for him.”

He found the old barn with no difficulty. The only one there was a kid mucking out stalls. The boy was maybe fifteen and he said he didn’t know anything about the hacks or the drivers. He seemed pretty nervous so Jim didn’t want to pressure him afraid that he might get the lad in trouble for saying something he was told not to.

He asked if he might just look around a bit because he needed a place to stable his horse when he was in town and he didn’t like the more established choices. The kid seemed relieved that he didn’t have to talk anymore and told him he could look around and he’d even take his horse out back for water.

Jim gave him the reins but warned him if the black didn’t want to go with him, not to force him. Alone in the building, Jim began to search for any clue of the missing agent. His search yielded nothing except for a niggling suspicion he was being watched.
He walked out back and found the stable boy stroking his horse while singing his praises. The horse was enjoying the attention. For an animal that could be a wild handful he did have an almost cuddly side that very few people ever saw. He thanked the kid giving him two bits, and took off at a canter for the center of town wondering if his shadow would be far behind.

There was no question in his mind now that Artie had been carefully and methodically set up for an ambush and kidnapping. The only question was who, why and where was he now.

[diddlepie]

“Is he still sleeping?” a frustrated Dr Loveless complained.

“Yes he is. He’s a very sick man,” Faith calmly answered. Her patient had taken a bit of soup, but almost passed out from the exhaustion of sitting up and eating. She had been thinking about her new employer, this cheerful and obviously very smart little man. He seemed harmless when he had hired her to do the cooking and watch over some friends whom he claimed were notoriously accident prone.

But the dark haired man sleeping in front of her had said that Loveless tried to kill him and a friend, and Loveless didn’t even object to the statement. As she watched the doctor listen to her patient’s chest with his listening device, her mind drifted.

Her father had named her Faith, after the Christian bible but her mother had always called her Hobnockie which meant in Shawnee, she who only hears the truth. Her mother told her she would need to have ears that only heard the truth men spoke because she was a half –breed, neither white or Indian and the world would be a cruel place for her.

She prayed to her mother’s spirit every night for strength. Ever since she had died, Faith had been on her own. Families would help her out with a meal here and there but no one offered to take her in, except those whose eyes were cruel. She prayed for her father’s return from the war now that it was over. Recently though she found herself just praying that her father was not in pain as she was certain this many years after the war, he was dead too.

She asked quietly, “Dr Loveless is it true what that you’ve tried to kill this man and his friend?”

He straightened up, taken aback by the bluntness of her question. “Well my dear, you need to understand that my friend here, Mr Gordon, is not quite right in the head currently and he may say some things that don’t seem to make sense. But if it makes you feel better, I can tell you truthfully I’ve never done anything to either Mr Gordon or his friend Mr West that they didn’t deserve.”

He spoke in his most charming and innocent voice hoping that she’d believe his words and guiltless tone, but watched her face closely for a reaction, and it was not what he had hoped for. She smiled and nodded but he saw a troubling dose of doubt reflected in her eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t as simple minded as he thought when he’d hired her into his compliment.

He’d seen her handiwork at a local doctor’s office where she worked and had been impressed with her knack for healing. The fact that her mother had died recently leaving her without any family to ask too many nosey questions was a plus. She had agreed to work for him to help out with cooking and tending to any medical problems that might arise as he proceeded with his business venture. Paying her better than the measly amount the small town doctor offered, sealed the deal.

He had told her he was expecting some friends and not to alarmed if her healing services were needed. She was quiet which he appreciated and had stayed to herself even though his hired bullies had made numerous attempts to gain her attention. He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with her. He truly did hate killing women, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

Her patient began to moan and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed as if to get up. She gently but firmly put her arms down across his legs to prevent him from moving any further as he began to struggle for breath again.

“Mr Gordon, lie still and wake up gently. I am still here with you.”
Her voice was commanding but peaceful and had an immediate calming effect.

He rolled his head in her direction opening his eyes. A weak smile threaded across his lips.

“Oh, Mr Gordon, I have been waiting for you,” Loveless chimed in.

“And I was hoping it was just a bad dream,” Artemus whispered.
His breathing was a little easier this time, although his throat and lungs still stung. He attempted to raise himself on his elbows and would have fallen back defeated if Faith hadn’t anticipated his intentions and helped him swing up to a seated position. Frustrated, he had to sit for a minute to gather his breath and control the nausea before he could speak.

“What do want Loveless?” he croaked. “If this is about killing me, would you just do it before I throw up?”

“Mr Gordon, you always did have a delightful dry sense of humor. I enjoy that about you. But you must stop talking nonsense as you are scaring our sweet Faith.”

He looked over at the young woman, who met his eyes with concern. She must not get drawn into this he thought. She’s in enough danger just being here.

He looked about the room finally able to clear some of the fuzz from his head. Maybe he couldn’t walk but as long as he could think, he had a chance of escape. There were a couple of lackeys in the background, he wondered if they were the ones who had ambushed him. Otherwise it was a large comfortable room perhaps the parlor of a large home until he saw the steeply pitched roof and the church altar.

“I see Loveless you’ve achieved a new level of insanity, raising a church to yourself. Where are the pews so we can all worship you properly?”

“And there you are again with your wit, Mr Gordon, or perhaps I should be so informal to call you Artemus since we’ll be working together. No, I can take no credit for this edifice. It was here when I came, although abandoned for years. Well built though as it has stood longer than any of its “flock” if you will. The rest of the houses of this charming little abandoned mining town are gone- reduced to dust, and the pews were long ago burned for firewood, but this cozy little building was just waiting for me to rehabilitate it. Pleasant, isn’t it, Mr Gordon?”

“Just ducky,” he replied.

His eyes came back to the young woman at his side who was observing him quietly. “Excuse me for not properly introducing myself,” he said. “Artemus Gordon, and you are an angel.” He took her hand and gave a slight bow of his head.

Loveless immediately saw the wheels turning in his captive’s mind, and in an equally charming voice said, “Faith, my dear, why don’t you take a nice long break while my friend and I discuss old times.”

She hesitated for a moment before leaving, until Loveless followed up with, “Don’t worry my dear, Mr Gordon will be just fine. I shall call you immediately if he should need you.”
With a wave of his hand and a large grin, he sent her from the room.

Artemus watched her leave, and then with a strained voice said, “Out with it Loveless. What do you want?”

[diddlepie]

Jim West rode back to the train at a leisurely pace which did not reflect the way he felt, but he wanted to see how closely the rider behind would follow. It would tell him much about who he might be dealing with; whether it was a sophisticated outfit or just a bunch of hired guns brought in by some deep pocket who had a grudge against Artie.

As much as he wanted to turn around and confront the man, he knew he needed to get to the train to see if Richmond had any agents in the area that could help. He also wanted to know if there was any news about the criminals they’d put behind bars. Maybe someone had escaped or gotten released that they didn’t know about. His hands were balled up into fists and he had to fight the extreme desire to just pommel the man riding behind him and get the information he needed.

Experience told him having backup would be the best option. He always knew Artie had his back and he likewise for his partner. Even if they were captured together, two heads are always better than one, had always been their successful motto, but it didn’t make it any easier now.

He kept telling himself that whoever took his partner wanted him alive. He just hoped the purpose in that wasn’t to watch while the life was slowly bled out of him.

Upon reaching the train, he checked carefully for any activity around it. It appeared all was quiet. Richmond had responded to his telegram saying that there were two agents on their way to St Louis arriving in approximately four days and that Jim should try to wait until they arrived. No word had been received from Artie’s kidnappers. Richmond finished his telegram wishing him luck and to let him know when he had any news.

He noticed his boss didn’t specifically order him to wait till the other agents arrived.

He looked out the window thinking how quiet the coach was without Artie. He had traveled without him in the past, but this type of silence was unnatural. Darkness began to descend on the landscape and with it came a cold wind.

“I hope you have a nice night out there,” Jim whispered to himself as he thought of rider who was undoubtedly camped out for the night watching the train.

“And I hope you’re ok, Artie, where ever you are. Just hang tight.” He knew he was in for a sleepless night, so he sat on the sofa, put his head back and began to run through all the names and faces of criminals they had dealt with over the years hoping one of the names would click.

[diddlepie]

In the end, Artie learned nothing about what Loveless wanted from their little chat. He insisted West be there for the full explanation.

When he questioned the doctor why he didn’t just issue an invite instead of planning an elaborate kidnapping scheme, the little man responded, “Now really Mr Gordon, would you and your partner have just shown up at my door step? I doubt it or not without a cavalry regiment standing in the background! Besides I think you’ve come to expect certain … entrances from me, and I’d hate to disappoint.”

Dr Loveless went on to talk at length about his past endeavors, and unrealized world designs as if the agent was a long lost friend. In more ways than one Artemus was a captive audience given that he couldn’t really argue with the strange little man without risking losing his breath.

The doctor made a specific point to acknowledge Artie’s expertise with explosives, and his scientific knowledge. He realized at one point the doctor was actually pandering to his ego, complementing him as a man of above average intelligence, although not as brilliant as himself, but certainly of noteworthy mental abilities.

What a bizarre man he truly is, Artemus thought as the doctor rambled on. He’s talking to me like we are best friends and yet I have no doubt what so ever that he would come in here tomorrow and shoot me dead, with great regret, he might say, but the outcome wouldn’t change.

“Why do you plot to wipe out hundreds of people?” he finally asked in exasperation after listening to the man rattle on. “Why do you hate humanity so much that you only wish to destroy it?”

The little man looked at him closely and folded his hands on the table of front of him.

"It strikes me, Mr Gordon, that you really don't know what it truly means to be me."

Artie replied, "I know you are a brilliant man, a man who can be disarmingly charming, a man of refined tastes, and a man who is very short."

He regarded the agent across the table for a moment his eyes narrowing in thought. Finally he took a deep breath, and began his voice level and even.

“You are one of the few people who mention my height as the last of my distinguishing features. For the rest of humanity, I qualify as a freak and that is all." His tone was somber.

“Do you know who Charles Stratton is, Mr Gordon?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’d know him better as Tom Thumb, the dwarf famous with the PT Barnum Circus. He makes his living as an entertainer, a fool, letting other people ogle him for their own pleasure.”

“Yes I know who he is,” Artie answered, “a performer. I was an actor myself once, and the same could be said of me. I also know he’s a very wealthy and happy man. I’ve met him and he does what he does by choice. And I would not call him a fool.” He had to stop to catch his breath for a moment and then continued.

“We all only have what we’re born with. It’s what you do with it that makes a man a winner or a loser. Yeah, some get more than others, to that I agree. But look at yourself, you have the brilliance of one of the world’s great scientists and yet you choose to use it for wickedness.”

The doctor glared at him. “Freaks come in two styles, Artemus.” He said the name with venom. “Your good friend, Mr James West, could be a called a freak. He is abnormally handsome. All exceedingly beautiful people are just as much freaks of nature as am I, except they receive positive attention, while I… well, you know the answer.”

He stepped away from the table, and composed himself. He stood a few feet away, his back to Artie.

"To my father I was an embarrassment, something to hide like you'd conceal an ugly scar. To my mother... well she just hoped I'd go away so she wouldn't have to listen to my father and his accusations of infidelity. It was the only explanation that was possible in his mind as to how a monster such as myself could have been born in his house."

He began to walk grasping his hands thoughtfully behind his back. “So I was sent to boarding school as far away as possible: London. Really I shouldn't complain as I received an excellent education and probably better protection from bullies than I ever would have gotten at home. Of course if I was severely damaged, the boarding school would have lost a good paying customer."

Artemus quietly listened. Part of him couldn't believe that this intimate conversation was happening, but he also wasn't going to be a captive audience for Loveless's life story, not after the number of times he and Jim had risked their lives to save hundreds if not thousands of lives from the man’s evil schemes.

He interrupted. “I’m sure your affliction has undoubtedly made your life more difficult but you always have a choice. Maybe you could help others like yourself for more equal treatment. If we’ve abolished slavery, I’m sure we can work on treating everyone more fairly. I do know people in high places, you know.”

He would have liked to smile after that remark but was consumed again with controlling his breathing. Loveless patiently waited.

“Whenever you’re ready to finish, Mr Gordon, I’m all ears,” he said sarcastically. He watched feeling a thrill of power over the government man as he contended with his breathing.

“You know Jim and I would help you. Help you to integrate into the best science institutions in the country. All you have to do is give up your maniacal plans for world domination or whatever you’re up to and then… there’s the matter of a few outstanding prison sentences we’d have to figure out…,” his tone was a bit more hesitant, “ but I have no doubt we can pull it off.”

“Don't talk to me Mr Gordon about who I should or shouldn't be! And what I should and shouldn’t do!”

He turned suddenly and pounded the wall with his fist. “Here you sit blessed with a handsome face, a powerful build, and the long legs I should have. You've never had to justify your mere existence to anyone! And your partner, James West, equally blessed with athleticism, and a chiseled face that a sculptor would envy!"

"So you'll live your life as a bitter man always looking for hate, never seeing the good in people, always trying to make other people see the world as you do; an unforgiving and evil place?"

Artemus's words caused him to pause but only for a minute until he answered defiantly, "Yes."

He stood in the middle of the room, his eyes ablaze with loathing. And as if a switch had been thrown, his affect suddenly brightened and he said cheerfully, “Well, the hour is late, Mr Gordon and unfortunately I can’t say I’ve enjoyed our little chat, but I do suggest you get some rest as tomorrow you will start your work. Pleasant night.”

The little man jauntily left the room.

Artie was exhausted and desperately wanted to lie down but he had to clear his head of Loveless. If it wasn’t for the fact the man was so dangerous, he’d feel sorry for him, and maybe he did at some level, but unless Loveless changed, they would always stand on different sides of the fence.

He was lost in thought and didn’t hear Faith when she quietly entered the room. She politely cleared her throat and stood waiting. He wondered if she’d heard the conversation.

He gazed at her young face for a moment. She was the same but different from Loveless. The same as they were both born with physical differences that made them stand out. But she was full of compassion and wisdom beyond her years while he was bitter and overrun with hatred.

She looked away and said, “Why do you stare at me?”

He knew instantly he had insulted her by inadvertently staring.
“Forgive me. I meant no disrespect. Your duel heritage has combined in your features to make you extraordinarily beautiful.”

“You are making fun of me for being a half-breed,” she replied looking up at him boldly.

“No, I am not making fun of you.” His voice was soft. He wanted to touch her cheek but held back knowing he might upset her more.

“Then why do you stare at me?”

He couldn’t tell her he was a government agent, and potentially compromise her safety, at least not until he had a good idea of how he could get her out of here.

“I’m an artist, and it’s my skill to observe the people around me,” he said. It was true that his use of makeup and disguise made him as much of a portrait artist as James Whistler, the only difference being he used his own face as the canvas.

She seemed to accept his answer and responded with a nod.

“Faith, I’d like to try to walk. Would you help me?” he asked.

She was not happy about his request, but she put two strong arms under his and silently helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her slight frame but he successfully walked the perimeter of the room. His legs were like wet noodles, and his chest felt tight but his spirits were brighter knowing he could do a short sprint even if only for a distraction. If it could save Jim’s life by giving him the upper hand, Artie would do it even if it would cost him his own.

[diddlepie]

Jim had spent most of the night getting ready. Whoever had kidnapped Artie knew he would come after him, and they also would knew his style, which was to slip in some back way or side entrance unseen and then make havoc once inside. So seeing as he was expected anyway, he figured he might as well get on with it.

He would be expected to come fully armed with handy little explosive devices, knives, and other assorted bits like lock picks, files and at least one derringer. By having a full complement, he hoped that if and when he was captured, his captors would be satisfied when they found all his concealed weapons. He did have one of Artie’s newest inventions, explosive putty which fit nicely against his skin, undeletable under his cloths. He did wonder if his partner ever meant for it to be worn against warm, moist skin given the consequences if it should ever detonate accidently in a fight, but he’d make sure to ask him as soon as he had the chance.

He sent a telegram to Colonial Richmond saying he’d make contact when the other agents arrived but that he was heading out to find his partner. He figured he’d get a sharp response to his telegram but what was one more reprimand.

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when he led his horse out of the train. He laughed to himself as he scanned the brush knowing his shadow was getting a rude early morning wakeup call. The black tossed his head snorting for an early morning run, and he let him.

They crossed the grassy desert fast and the cold wind in his face energized him. When the horse had enough, they came to a restful stop behind a clump of trees on a small rise. Perfect spot, he thought to himself, and he settled back against the stump of a tree and let the rising sun warm his face while they waited.

To his “shadow’s” credit, they didn’t wait too long till the sound of pounding hoofs rapidly approached. He quickly mounted up and pulled out onto the trail just as the horse and rider approached. The startled horse reared back dumping his rider in a pile of dead brush. Jim casually drew alongside the man with his gun drawn and resting on his lap.

“Did you have a good night?” he asked. “I almost invited you in for a brandy, but I didn’t think I’d be able to stand the smell, and now I know I was right.”

The stunned man made an attempt for his gun and Jim shot a warning shot, which skimmed his left side.

“Now I think we need to have a man to weasel talk, because weasel is what I call anyone who thinks kidnapping is an honorable profession.” He cocked the gun again aiming it squarely at the man’s chest, his tone deep and demanding. “Where’s Artemus Gordon?”

“Mister, I don’t know who you’re talking about?” the man pleaded.

A single shot rang out just over his head.

“I see. So you decided on a lark to follow me around town yesterday, camp outside my train for the night, and then go for a very early morning ride behind me because you thought you’d like to meet me so we could be pals.” Another shot went whizzing, this one just to the right of the man’s ear.
“Now I don’t know if you’ve been counting my friend, but I have three bullets left and I’m not going to waste them like I did the others, so why don’t you get smart and start talking. And if you’re thinking your boss is going to kill you if you talk, you don’t need to worry about him, friend, because I’m going to kill you first.”

He casually pushed the brim of his hat up with the gun barrel, and spoke again. “So in case you didn’t hear me the first time, where’s Artemus Gordon?”

The man swallowed hard and stared at the barrel of the gun pointing directly at his head, and the cool cowboy holding it. Jim slowly cocked the pistol again.

“Ok-OK! Don’t shoot!” They’re holding him at this old abandoned church.”

“A church? The only church around here is the one in the town of Indian Flats, and I know for a fact it isn’t abandoned.”

Weasel squirmed realizing the man holding the gun wasn’t going to let him go. “It’s an old mining station. Hasn’t been used in years. It’s just bums and ole miners who live there, but we drove them all out because the doctor told us to.”

“Who’s holding him?” Jim maintained his aim.

“They call him Dr something… I don’t know his name, but he’s a strange little man, I mean his more than strange just because he’s little. He’s really odd and a little scary.”

Jim nodded to himself. Loveless. That was the one name that haunted his thoughts last night. “And what about Artemus Gordon?” The black horse began to dance under his master as if understood the words and the urgency to go.

“Is that his name? I don’t even know his name. I just know we were hired to go get this fancy dressed guy after some show and bring him back… alive.”

“And you drugged him with chloroform?”

“Yeah, something like that, but I guess we gave him too much and the little doctor guy was real mad at us because he said we could have killed him,” his lips twisted in a stupid grin, “but we didn’t, Mister! Honest!”

The grin had disappeared and was replaced by wide open eyes and a plea. “I saw him yesterday and he didn’t look so good but he was alive!”

“Get up. NOW!” Jim commanded.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No, I’ll let someone else do that, Weasel. Now throw me your gun, and take off the gun belt!” His patience had just about run out. Jim caught the gun and tucked it into his pants. “Get on your horse. You’re going to take me to the church.”

Weasel cornered his skittish mount, and swung into the saddle while nervously glancing back all the while at the man with the gun. The sun was climbing in the sky as Jim followed his prisoner along the path. Weasel was a short fellow, but powerfully built with broad shoulders and massive arm muscles, not your usual gun for hire, Jim thought.

Probably an out of luck miner looking for a quick buck. No good with a gun but formidable in a fight. His clothes were worn and what was left of his hat a mule wouldn’t have bothered stealing for lunch. His round face was populated by multiple pock marks, a child hood case of measles most likely. He looked to be in his late thirties, but in actuality he was probably younger. The life of a miner was not easy. Finding gold out here was only for the very lucky, but decay of the body was free to all.

Jim considered his options. If Artie was injured, than chances were good that he couldn’t depend on him to be much help. His usual back- door style wouldn’t give him any advantage if his partner couldn’t run to make an escape.

He could take Weasel back to the train and have the engineers hold him and wait for more agents to arrive and then break into Loveless’s prison, but he was concerned that if Artie was already in poor condition, he could die while he waited. And although he didn’t think Loveless would let that happen, not at least until he had gloated over both of them, he didn’t want to take the chance. The little doctor was just too unstable to trust Artie’s life to his whim.

So the front door it would be. He and Artie had figured out enough situations between them that he trusted they would handle this one too… he hoped.

“Heh mister,” Weasel called out. “Are you this Mr Gordon’s partner?”

“What’s it to you?” Jim said to the back of the man’s head as the two horses walked in single file.

“Well, I heard the little doctor say we should get ready for your arrival. Like you’re some kind of tough hombre.”

“I’ve had a few disagreements here and there,” Jim replied with a smirk. Thinking quickly he decided he could learn what he was up against if he continued the conversation. Taking on a surely tone, he asked, “How many of you do you think I could take?” he said baiting the man. “All of you, or maybe just half?”

“Hah,” replied Weasel turning in his saddle to grin at his captor. “No way could you take all of us. Don’t care how tough you are.”

“Turn around, Weasel!” Jim ordered. “I wouldn’t want you to fall off your horse.”

Sounding as condescending as possible, he continued, “You don’t think I could take six of you losers?” He needed to get a number in this game.

“Hell no mister! Why between me, Dan, and Red we’d beat you to a pulp!”

“You think so?” Jim said egging the guy on. “Well that’s only three guys, what about the rest? Come on big mouth, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

“So you think because you’re something special you could take all five of us?”

Bingo! Jim thought. Five against one, he’d better not count on Artie. Not such bad odds, and as long as the two of them could scheme together, they’d come up with something. “Shut up, Weasel and just keep walking.”

Well Weasel never stayed quiet for long which was a good thing, because as he rambled on taunting Jim with what he was going to do to him when they arrived at the old church, he keep leaking important information about Loveless’s set up.

Not a very smart fellow are you, Jim thought to himself, as Weasel told him about all the explosive powder that was stored in one of the old mine shafts, and how the real mastermind was some guy named Fredrickson.

He also said there was a young woman there who did the cooking and had been taking care of Artemus. By the description, Jim didn’t think it was Antoinette. Weasel made it clear that he’d like to know her better, but that wasn’t happening.

[diddlepie]

They didn’t arrive at the old church until nearly dusk. The town that had grown up around the church had largely fallen down with the exception of a few lonely walls looking like they could use a building. The exception was the church which must have been built with far better care and materials.

It was a small building standing in a group of trees, but it had the look of serenity and permanence even though it’s sides had shed just about all of their paint. No wonder Loveless has a small crew, Jim thought. This is much smaller than his usual digs. They stopped just in front of the building.

“Here,” he said to Weasel as he threw him his gun. After the man got over his surprise he turned the gun threateningly at his prior captor.

The door opened at the moment and Weasel, thinking the fastest he’d ever known, yelled loudly, “Now throw down your gun nice and slow mister and I won’t put a hole in you!”

Jim chuckled. “Whatever you say, Boss. So tell me where’s Dr Loveless?”

He heard the all too familiar laugh before he saw the little man exit the church. “Ah, Mr West! We’ve been expecting you. Of course your manner of entry is always a surprise, but I must admit I hadn’t expected to see you quite so soon.” The little man sounded so cheerful like he was greeting his Christmas guests.

But it was followed by a sharp command, “Search him! His boots, his coat collar, his sleeves, anywhere he could hide something!”
He kept his cool as he was patted down, graciously acknowledging the lock picks, derringer, and assorted knives that Loveless’s goons found.

“As always Mr West, you travel well prepared.” Loveless’s tone was icy and cruel, reminding Jim, in case he’d forgotten, what a maniacal man he was. Weasel, took great pleasure in shoving his revolver into his back and ordering him into the darkened interior of the church.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight of outside. He was relieved to see his partner standing with the close company of a young woman, but it wasn’t until he got closer that he saw just how sick Artie looked. He had always been the paler complexioned of the two of them, but Jim could see he looked like a ghost with white skin and dark circles under his eyes. He was working hard to stand straight and had to reach out for the woman next to him for balance.

“So you see Mr West, your friend is alive…I won’t say doing fine, but alive,” the little man smirked, obviously satisfied to see his new captive’s distress at the appearance of his partner.

“Jim, don’t listen to him. I’m fine, just a little tired maybe.” Jim could see Artie fight the urge to bring his hand up to his chest, and it remained balled at his side as Artie fought off the pain of exertion.

“Please you must sit down Mr Gordon before you hurt yourself. You see, Mr West, your friend here suffered a most regrettable injury from a careless over dose of chloroform during his abduction. Really I do regret it as it may put us behind schedule but the good news is I have a new wonder medicinal compound I have been working on which I believe will cure Mr Gordon’s heart fibrillation. I have been monitoring him closely with auscultation using my own variation of Cammann’s binaural stethoscope.”

Predictably the doctor became energized as he prattled on about his latest invention, and the series of experiments that had led up to his discovery. He moved rapidly about the room, collecting varies glass jars and finally an odd looking device that looked like a necklace except it was large and clunky with a bell shaped object hanging at the bottom.

He put it around his neck. “You see with this device, I can actually hear Mr Gordon’s heart beat. Isn’t that amazing? Now it should sound like this… lub-dub, lub-dub… you see? But Mr Gordon’s heart sounds more like … lub-dub-ta, lub-dub-ta. That extra sound means his heart is not in sinus rhythm and until it returns to sinus rhythm, I don’t have to worry about him running off! In effect Mr Gordon has suffered a broken heart!! I’d call it poetic justice considering how often you two have destroyed my plans, my life’s work!”

The little doctor’s tone had suddenly gone from almost girlish delight as he described his inventions, to decidedly deadly in the space of seconds. He walked slowly, regaining his composure as he studied the floor for a moment.

Then calmly he continued, “So, Mr Gordon, if you have any thoughts of feigning or acting your way out of this predicament, I suggest you skip that plan as I am able to verify if you are in fact suffering from a “broken” heart or not, and will take all measures necessary to ensure you don’t leave my company until I have decided your services are no longer necessary.”

“If only you would use that brilliant mind of yours to help your fellow man, you could be a hero,” Artie said as he eased down onto the couch.

“Mr Gordon, I believe we’ve already covered that subject. The world had its chance. Now it’s my turn. I’ll give you two a minute to catch up and then we’ll talk.” His voice was cold and dangerous. He glared at his two prisoners for a long moment, and abruptly left the room ordering four of his thugs to keep a close watch and shoot either of them if they tried to escape.

Artie let his head flop back, shutting his eyes. His chest felt like he was being squeezed by a Burmese python. Jim hurriedly pulled a chair in front of him.

“Artie, you alright?” His voice was low and laden with worry.

“He is ok. He needs to catch his breath.” It was the young woman. She had seemed to disappear when Loveless was talking, but now she was very much here speaking in a deep, deliberate way. She stood up and began to rub the ailing man’s shoulders slowly, while pressing one hand against his chest. She hummed a tune Jim did not recognize. Whatever it was it was working as he saw his partner’s breathing slow down, his arms and hands relax. He watched memorized for a moment as Artie’s color even seemed to improve, as the gray hue that had washed over his face now gave way to a hint of pink.

“What’s he up to Artie?”

“I wish I knew.” His partner spoke slowly. “He wants me to help with something, I think it has to do with explosives, and he says you are his insurance that I’ll cooperate. But then he says we’ll want to help him anyway. He wouldn’t give any details until we were both here.”

Jim nodded, taking a deep breath. He looked around the building, noting the exits, windows and the guards that watched them.
“This isn’t his usual style is it? Do you know anything about the immediate area?” Jim asked.

“No. I came in unconscious and I’ve been pretty much useless since then. I honestly don’t know, Jim, if I be of any help.” Jim could read the worry and guilt on his friend face.

“Don’t worry Artie. We’re handle this and Loveless. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again.”

They both fell silent for a moment as they mutually contemplated the severity of their situation.

“Is it true that the doctor has tried to kill you?” a serene voice asked.

Up until this point, the wounded man’s eyes had been closed, but they flashed open at the sound of Faith’s voice. He met Jim’s eyes and gave an imperceptible shake of his head. Jim interpreted it to mean that the young woman knew nothing of Loveless’s plan or his past history and for her own safety, to say as little as possible.

He answered, “Let’s just say Dr Loveless is not what he seems.”

“So he has tried to kill you?”

Artie realized that she wasn’t going to stop asking until she had an answer. He spoke quietly and slowly. “Yes, he has tried to kill us. We are agents of the United States government. We work for President Grant. The doctor is a mentally disturbed, but brilliant little man who wants to destroy all life on earth or at least what he can get a hold of. We’ve been up against him before, and always managed to beat him. We aren’t sure what he wants with us, or what he’s up too, but we can be certain it won’t be good for the American people.”

“And you have tried to kill him?” She continued in the same quiet but confident voice.

The two men looked at each other for a moment considering the answer. “Yes”, Jim finally said.

“I will think about who is telling the truth,” she said.

At that moment, Loveless entered the room, smiling and energized. “I’m so glad we are all together,” he beamed. “Now Faith, my dear, why don’t you go take some time for yourself while I talk with my good friends. We have so much to catch up on, don’t we gentleman.”

[diddlepie]

Amelia Eastcott was relieved to see the train was still in the same location as it two days ago when she’d ridden out to tell her story to James West.

The engineer was outside lying on the ground beside one of the train’s main drive wheels with a wagon of tools and a small barrel of oil next to him. She had come on horseback, looking to relief her stress with fresh air and exercise.

“Hello!” she called.

The engineer turned his head and slowly got up from the ground to greet her. “Yes, ma’am, what can I do you for?”

“I was wondering if Mr West was here. I’m hoping to learn… well anything I can about Mr Gordon.”

Orrin recognized her now as the young business woman Artemus Gordon had been seeing. “I’m sorry Miss but Mr West is not here, nor Mr Gordon.” He didn’t add that James West had left yesterday to search for his partner. Years of traveling with the two of them had taught him you don’t give information to anyone even if they look as innocent as a new born babe.

“Oh, I was hoping he’d have some news. I can’t sleep at night worried as I am.”

Orrin shuffled his feet a bit and shook his head but said nothing.

She continued, “I’ll be staying at one of the hotels in town for just a day for a rail road continuation meeting. I’ve got to meet with some of the contracted suppliers to plan out the material needs for the next six months. As you may know, my family’s company supplies the timber for the rail ties. I was hoping to hear something before I left.”

Orrin could see the dismay in her face. He said, “I’ll give Mr West your message when I see him, Miss”.

Horse and rider continued to stand there perhaps hoping he would say something else. He finally gave a tip of his cap saying that he had to get back to work. She turned her horse to leave.
“Thank you, sir. Please tell him to contact me day or night if he should learn anything.”

She passed him a card with the name and address of the hotel and turned her horse away. He could smell her lingering perfume as horse and rider departed sadly. It smelled nice, but he pulled an oil rag hanging from his pocket and held it up to his nose and decided as nice as her perfume was, he liked his better.

[diddlepie]

Jim helped his partner to his feet and followed the doctor out the church back door where they were ordered to climb into an old heavily built wagon, probably used in the mine years ago.

It was probably mid- morning, he figured, as he assisted Artie into the corner formed by the driver’s seat and side board so he could rest. A set of steps was lowered from the wagon rear gate and Loveless took a position on what was obviously a custom made seat that could swivel in any direction allowing him to look forward or to the rear.

He swung around to face his prisoners as two of his goons climbed in, each holding a rifle aimed at the agents and another man took the driver’s seat. In any other situation this would have been when Jim would make his move. He knew the two of them could easily catch the guards by surprise, grab their rifles with one of them bringing down the driver while the other kept a bead on Loveless. He also knew it wasn’t going to work today.

His thoughts were interrupted by the little man’s chuckle.
“I can read your mind Mr West, and you are wise not to try it. Such a burst of activity, although I’m sure would be very satisfying to you, would result in no net gain and probably just put Mr Gordon’s precarious health in further danger. Why don’t you just sit tight and enjoy the ride. Really, I think you will be interested in what I’m going to show you.”

A familiar look of self satisfaction spread across his face as the wagon began to bump along the narrow but well used road.

“So where is the lovely Antoinette, and is Faith your new companion for your evil schemes?” Jim asked wanting to distract himself as well as do something to wipe the smirk off the doctor’s face.

“I’m afraid these accommodations are not up my fair lady’s standards, although I have done what I could in a short time to make the place habitable. Alias, she has declined to travel with me for this venture.”

Artemus was studying his face closely for any hidden meaning. If there was some weakness in Loveless’s support system, they would want to exploit it.

Knowing Artie had taken on the role of critical observer, Jim continued, “So this new woman, Faith, she doesn’t seem like your type Loveless. Very pretty, but part Indian which is not an ethnic group you’ve ever shown much respect for, and she seems much too honest for you. I’m wondering why she’s here. Surely you could have found someone more like yourself, better breeding, and malicious who shares your hatred of mankind.”

“I know what you’re trying to do Mr West, and I won’t bite.” Loveless replied vehemently, crossing his arms and turning his head away like a toddler refusing to eat their vegetables.

Artie closed his eyes and leaned back with a tiny nod of his head and a slight smile. They’d found a weak spot and although he hated drawing the young woman into it, they’d make sure she got out safely.

They bumped along in silence until they reached the opening of the abandoned mine shaft. Loveless had regained his enthusiasm by that time and went trotting off ahead of them into the cave, with the three gun men following behind the agents. Jim was pleased to see Artie doing a better job walking although slowly.

Darkness greeted them as they entered the tunnel along with the smell of earth and acrid chemicals. The guards lit torches as they proceeded until they came to a large room already illuminated with multiple wall sconces.

One side of the room was stacked with large barrels marked “Explosives”. The other side was a vast city of tables with glass beakers, bottles and tubes all connected with varying sizes of tubing; a typical Dr Loveless laboratory.

“Gentlemen, come in, come in.” Loveless chimed excitedly.
There were a couple of chairs pulled out in the middle of the room, and the doctor motioned for them to sit which Artie did while Jim remained standing.
“So here you see the project that you will be helping me with. This, gentlemen, is the explosive powder being furnished to the rail roads by one – Mr Albert Fredrickson, formally of the Confederate state of Virginia. He’s never been too happy with the outcome of the war, I understand.”

Then motioning to the opposite side he said, “And this is my home away from home, where I come to get away from it all- my laboratory. Now here’s the part you’ll find most interesting.”
He walked up to the seated agent, his eyes alive with enthusiasm. “Having no love for your boss, President Grant, and the forced reunion of the North and South, Mr Fredrickson has supplied the railroads with tainted explosives, which you see if front of you. How tainted, you might ask?”

He began to almost skip with delight as he spoke. “As you know dynamite is an unstable substance, and if you add just a pinch of this nitroglycerin, and a smidgen of that, one can make it highly unstable.”

He stopped in front of his two captives laughing. “I pity those poor workers who will be handling these barrels oh so carefully, making sure not to drop them or get them to close to an ignition source, when BOOM, they go off anyway! Can’t you just see the mayhem when an entire wagon load… make that multiple wagon loads go BOOM!!” He laughed manically making wide arches with his outstretched arms while yelling “Boom!”

“Sounds like it’s your kinda plot,” Artie said shaking his head in disbelief. “Lots of innocent people killed, lots of damage, plenty of destruction. Yup it’s you all the way.”

“Oh, but that’s it! You see, I’ve brought you here to stop it!”

The two agents looked at each other with quizzical looks. “You want to stop it? Why?” Jim asked.

“Because I want President Grant to reward me for my selfless, and courageous act of exposing this evil plan and thereby grant me California. After all, think of the peril I put myself in, bringing you two here, and if Fredrickson ever finds out I’ve told you… well I’m sure he might not see me favorably.” He twittered with delight.

“So let’s forget California for a minute, while I ask you just what your relationship with this Fredrickson character is?” Artie asked curiously.

“Oh that’s the best part! He thinks he’s hired me to baby sit his cache of boom- boom dust, and of course who better to watch over his dream than a brilliant chemist. I must admit I originally only agreed to the job because I was running short on cash. He’s too boorish and enamored with himself to realize that in fact I’ve taken over his scheme and I’m in complete control of this little contrivance.”

He slapped his leg as he laughed with glee. “I’m going to double cross him by turning these nasty unstable barrels of explosives to something as benign as say feather pillows. No, I’m not going to turn them into feather pillows of course. That would take too much time, but they will be completely harmless. And, Mr Gordon, that’s where you come in.”

He marched over to the seated agent, and stood directly in front of him, eye to eye. “Your expertise with explosives has never gone unnoticed to me, Mr Gordon. You have quite a talent for them, I’d say.”

He stomped off a short distance and then turned to face the man, all for dramatic emphasis. “You will develop a neutralizing agent effectively turning these barrels from an extremely hazardous material to a safe black powder suitable for young children to play in!”

Artie shook his head. “Why don’t you do it? You have plenty of experience with all kinds of boom-boom dust. It seems like you’ve gone through a lot of trouble to bring me here, when you could do it yourself.”

“But who better to witness the good doctor’s redemption than us,” said Jim as he patted his partner on the shoulder. “Of course, President Grant will believe us, being the trusted agents we are, and should we make any recommendations as to compensation, he would be more apt to listen to us than say some small town marshal.”

“You see, I knew you would appreciate my idea,” Loveless added gleefully. “Now Mr Gordon if you want to go over and sample any of those barrels you’ll see that I am truthful. Sample them all if you want!”

“Just a minute, Loveless,” said Artie sternly. “And what if I refuse?”

“Oh why must you always be like that? Like little children… ‘Mommy what will you do to me if I won’t milk ole Bessy the cow?” the doctor said mockingly his arms flapping to add emphasis. “Well I’ll tell you,” he said clearly agitated by the question. “I will hold Mr West hostage and under the threat of his demise, I will attempt to motivate you. If you still refuse I’ll have my boys dispose of both of you which will put you once and for all out of my hair.”

He paced the room as he spoke. “And as for that sweet little half breed, you are correct I believe I have underestimated her. She seems to be a good deal smarter than the rest of her kind and inquisitive too. With you two gone, I’m sure she’ll start asking questions and I can’t have that, so she’ll have to go bye- bye too.”

Stopping directly in front of the two agents, he crossed his arms against his chest. “Do you need a moment to decide?” he demanded.

“No, I’ll do it,” Artie said with resignation portrayed on his tired face. He scrubbed his hair with one hand and then looked up at his partner. “We have no choice, Jim. We can’t let this explosive out in the field, not if it’s as unstable as he says. Not with the hundreds of lives at risk.” He cradled his forehead with his hand, “But not today. I need to rest.”

“Alright Mr Gordon, Mr West. We’ll start tomorrow, but no funny stuff. Agreed?

“Agreed” replied Jim. As the words left his lips, he knew they were already scheming.

[diddlepie]

Jim slept fitfully, of course it didn’t help that he was tied to a railing. He’d spent most of the night watching his partner waiting for his chest to rise once more signaling that he was still alive.

Loveless had been by with his stethoscope, or that’s what he thought Artie had called the odd device that the little doctor used to check his partner’s heart. Artie must have been out like a dead campfire not to have felt Loveless moving the device across his chest.

“Somewhere out here, out west, there is a small town that would love you, welcome you with open arms because of what you can do.” Jim said softly.

“Oh you think so, Mr West? You don’t think they would ridicule me for my size? Take advantage of me? Throw me out for my first failure?” He turned to face him. “You don’t know anything about my life, Mr West.” His spoke with distain and arrogance.
“It’s easy for you to judge. You’re handsome, athletic, and able to defend yourself admirably. Women seek you, follow you, and men fear you. You do not have any idea what it is like to be me.”

“I know you’re brilliant. So maybe the small town thing isn’t right for you, but the big city is where there is a research facility where you can be yourself, surrounded by those equally as brilliant. We could help you get started.”

“First off, Mr West, there is no equal to myself, except perhaps for Louis Pasteur or Robert Koch, both in Europe, not this back woods, feeble minded little country.”

“Maybe that’s who you are supposed to be, our brilliant physician on par with Europe’s best.” Jim said calmly, his face reflecting only honesty.

“No. What I do is what I was put on earth for: to save the planet from people like you.” He covered Artie with a blanket and hoped down from the stool.

Realizing this line of discussion was going nowhere, Jim asked, “How is he?”

“Normal sinus rhythm remains elusive for Mr Gordon. I will try my experimental remedy on him in the morning. As they say, it will either cure him or kill him, although I do believe the former, but you never know, do you. So nighty- night for now.” He waddled off with a self- satisfied smile.

Jim rested his head back on the railing.

“Artie, are you awake?” he said in a whisper.

“Ya, I’m awake. How could I not be with that little devil driving a cold stethoscope all over my bare chest?” He laid still, his eyes closed, but his voice clear and cool.

“Any ideas?”

“Yeah, seriously you’ve got to destroy that stethoscope.”

“Come on Artie. It might be cold but I think you can handle it.”

“No Jim. What I mean is as long as he can actually monitor if I’m sick or not, we can’t pull anything over on him. I’m getting better. I can feel it, but if he doesn’t know it, I can play the sick part and surprise him when we’re ready to make a run for it. In the meantime, I’ll learn as much as I can about the tainted explosives and whatever else he has up his sleeve.” He opened his eyes and looked over at his partner. “You don’t look so comfortable.”

“This? I suppose it’s nothing compared to a cold stethoscope.”

“Come on Jim, quit fooling. You think he’s got something else planned?”

“Knowing Loveless, I’d say for sure he does. Artie, what about this experimental concoction he’s planning on giving you in the morning? I’m not sure I like the sound of it.”

“Well, I have to give it to the little doctor for originality.” Artie turned his head back and pensively stared at the roof rafters. “He wants to give me nitroglycerin.”

“Nitroglycerin? You mean that stuff that’s used in dynamite? Artie, what’s he trying to do, blow you up?” Jim tried to stand forgetting momentarily he was tied to a railing. “Why doesn’t he just say he going to poison you and be done with it.” He flopped his head back against the railing, his mind racing with the knowledge that he would not let his partner knowingly be used in some diabolical medical experiment.

“There’s talk in Europe that it might work,” Artie continued. “You see amyl nitrate, a derivative of the chemical compound nitroglycerin, seems to dilate the blood vessels of the heart resulting in… “Artie, are you nuts!” Jim interrupted. “I can’t believe you’d take anything that mad man gave you especially something that he said would cure you!”

“Well, you’re right Jim in that there is no clinical data proving its medicinal benefit but it is an interesting theory.”

Jim rolled his eyes in the dark. “Do you want to try his remedy?” The last word spun off his tongue like a sour apple.

“Not really.” Artie replied rather blandly. “We both know Loveless, chances are it might turn me into a cat or something.”
They were both silent for a moment, both thinking the same thing but in different ways.

Jim spoke first. “I could start a raucous when he tries to give you his medicine and in the process not only will I make sure you don’t take the stuff but I’ll bust that diabolical stethoscope he’s been torturing you with.” He made a wide sarcastic grin.

Paying no attention to the tease, Artie answered, “It’s a good idea, just don’t make it look like that’s what you’re out to do. But first you’ll have to untie yourself. I’d be happy to help but seems like I’m handcuffed by the ankle to the bed. I can get just far enough to fall on my face.”

Artie turned his head pensively to stare at the roof rafters of the little church. “He said he thought his remedy would cure me or kill me. It would be nice, you know, to die in a church instead of being blown up in a cave, don’t you think?” he said wistfully.

“Now who is fooling around,” Jim answered. “I’ve got a few hours to get through these ropes. Wish me luck.”

[diddlepie]

It was no surprise to Hobnockie when Mr West acted angry and annoyed that morning. She heard them talking about their plan to break the doctor’s heart- ear piece. She’d also heard the handsome man asking the little doctor why he didn’t use his knowledge to help people.

She knew the small man was right when he said people wouldn’t listen to him because of his size because she also knew what it was like to be different and powerless. But maybe the man from Washington was right. If the doctor went to the big cities where all the wise people lived, he would be heard by other brilliant men who would help him and protect him.

She thought it was odd that the doctor didn’t want to go. He did not seem pleased with her either last night when Mr Gordon returned. He was weak and struggling to breath, but she helped him by laying her hands on his chest and tapping out the hearts rhythm so his own heart could learn it again. She knew she was healing his heart although Mr Gordon didn’t seem to realize it yet.

But the doctor had just called it Indian hocus- pocus, non-science and told her she could continue as long as she didn’t interfere. Now he wanted to give her patient medicine that might be bad. It didn’t make sense to her but her mother had told her about men who would claim to do good, but the only good they really did was for themselves. She knew the truth now and realized she must help the two government men.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I trust you slept well, especially you Mr West,” Loveless greeted them brightly. No one would guess that Jim had spent the night chaffing through the ropes that bound him to the railing. His efforts had paid off.

Whether Loveless was expecting trouble or not, Jim couldn’t tell but he had his entire compliment of goons with him including Weasel. And luckily the little man was wearing the stethoscope loosely around his neck like a gentleman’s scarf. It would make an easy target.

Artie was sitting up, looking pale but alert. Faith stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. Jim was wondering if that was a protective gesture when Loveless approached his partner with a small vile of white liquid.

“Here you go Mr Gordon.”

“What’s this?” Although he knew very well what it was, he played the part.

“It’s an experimental medication I’ve been working on. Something to steady your heart rhythm. It’s worked most of the time with mice, but I must confess I’ve never tried it on a human.” He said with a giggle that was part excitement, part malice.

“Now I’m confused,” Artie said. “You kidnap me to develop a neutralizing agent for your unstable gunpowder, but now you want me to be your guinea pig?”

“Well I’ll admit it is a change of plans and I will be disappointed if it kills you, truly disappointed, but I say when opportunity knocks, you must open the door. Granted I don’t think I’ll be able to publish the result if you die, but if you don’t, I’ll have a nice little side business going, don’t you agree Mr West?” Loveless broke out into maniacal laughter, slapping his sides with anticipation.

It was the moment James was looking for. The goons were staring at the little man, not knowing what to make of his behavior when he went into action. He hurdled himself at the vile in Loveless’s hand, grabbed it and smashed it against the wall. As it flew from his hands, the doctor went to grapple the agent by the waist giving West the perfect opportunity to push him away while grabbing the stethoscope. Unfortunately he missed it as it swung around behind the little man’s back. Damm, he thought. It was going to get a lot harder to destroy it now as the goons were in motion all bearing down on him.

Weasel slammed him hard in the stomach while two other men grabbed his arms. Initially he doubled over from the blow but came up hard and fast as Weasel moved in for a right hook to the jaw. Using his two captors as balance he drove the back of his head into the bottom of the Weasel’s chin, throwing the man over backwards to the floor with a satisfying crash.

With his two captors off balance, he pushed hard with his legs and threw his weight back onto them causing them to tumble to the floor. Jim went down too, but was up in a flash diving low at the legs of the next two attackers. As they fell, he rose up and pounded his elbows into their kidneys and they went down with loud groans. It felt good to be moving, fighting and no one person was a match for him when he was in motion. Weasel stumbled to his feet, blood seeping from his mouth. He made a charge but staggered and fell against the wall.

The two who he initially knocked to the floor were up and one came at him swinging wildly, while the other one lurched forward only to be tripped by Artie’s out stretched foot. Jim backed off giving himself room amide the downed thugs. He held his arms close to his chest in anticipation of blocking a fist with one and throwing a punch with the other. A loud shout broke his concentration.

“Mr West! It was Loveless, holding a gun to Artie’s head. “Stop now and your colleague lives another day! Keep up your destructive fighting, and I’ll kill Mr Gordon and then our little Indian princess!”

Weasel rose purposefully from the floor and stood next to Loveless holding Faith firmly by the arms, a lecherous look spreading across his pock marked face. Dangling from her hands was the smashed stethoscope.

“And oh yes, you can thank your little Indian friend here for shattering my stethoscope. So now the two things that could have helped Mr Gordon have been destroyed! Foolish superstitious lot these Indians! They destroy that which doesn’t fit into their magical beliefs of medicine men, and spirits while science, the only true religion, they distain.”

In his arrogance, he never suspected the young woman’s motives, assuming she had destroyed the device because of her bias to the Indian brand of “hocus-pocus” medicine.

He glared at her angrily waving his hand in the air dismissively. He walked to the middle of the room, the gun still pointing in Artie’s direction. Artie looked at Jim with an expression he’d see before, an acceptance of death with no fear or regrets. The slightest of smiles, though tugged at the corner of his mouth and Jim knew why.

They may have just lost a battle but they were one step closer to winning the war. The stethoscope was smashed leaving Artie to act the sick and dying agent without Loveless being able to verify his condition. And they had an alley, Faith. Just what role she would play wasn’t clear yet, but by destroying Loveless’s device she had proven herself resourceful. The odds had just gotten a bit better.

Jim held his hands up in defeat. He’d taken some nasty blows, but he’d live.

“Now after your little morning exercise, I suggest we make our way to the mine where Mr Gordon can begin his work! Take her too! And make sure you bring plenty of rope and put our pugilistic prisoner here under twenty four hour guard. Check his bindings every half hour! Mr West has a way of slipping out of things.” Loveless barked orders, commanding his disheveled band into action.

While the others gathered themselves together, two men grabbed Jim and pushed him towards the door. From the corner of his vision, he could see Weasel shove Artie and Faith. Artie almost fell and Faith wrapped a strong thin arm around his waist. He wasn’t sure how much was for show and how much was real although he hoped it was the former.

They were loaded in the mining wagon with Weasel and two other gun men sitting across from him. Artie and Faith sat next to him with Loveless sitting at the back of the wagon. The other two men sat in the driver’s seat the skinny one holding a rifle on Artie.

“I assure you Mr West, Jeb there won’t hesitate to shoot Mr Gordon if you try anything. Perhaps it would be a mercy if you did as Mr Gordon doesn’t look so good.” He began his maniacal laughter enjoying the torment he knew he was causing. “You just can’t handle the possibility that you’ll lose, can you Mr West, Mr Gordon?”

He wanted to ask his partner how he was, because if he was acting sick, he was very convincing, too convincing for comfort, but he knew he’d have to wait for a more private time. He looked over at the young woman. Her face showed no fear only a veiled contempt for the man sitting across from her and his leering smile. He licked his lips provoking her to turn her head away, and a huge sneer broke out across his face.

When the time came, Jim would make sure Weasel paid double. Loveless’s men were all bar room brawlers, not trained fighters. He’d learned years ago he’d rather face a room full of disorganized brawlers than an experienced group of skilled assailants. It had been a painful bit of information to learn as he winced when the wagon hit a deep rut.

He watched as the wagon bounced along the road. The horses must be kept in the dilapidated barn behind the church. There should at least six, one for each of Loveless’s men and his own horse. The rented carriage that was used to kidnap his partner might still be here since he hadn’t found it in his search through town, and Loveless always traveled by carriage. He would probably need it to get Artie out as he doubted he could ride.

But all of this meant they wouldn’t be able to make a fast get away. Perhaps this is where the young woman would come in.
They arrived at the mine opening and Jim reached up to help his friend off. As they passed, Artie gave him an unobtrusive wink. Maybe things were looking up after all.

[diddlepie]

Some men learn to accept themselves for who they are. Albert Fredrickson was not one of them.

He should have been born a tall aristocratic southern gentleman with a large plantation, slaves and a beautiful wife and he was on his way to making at least part of the dream a reality when Lincoln’s foolish war ruined it all.

He was a big boned man with broad shoulders, a thick neck, a bulbous nose and fat lips. There was nothing small about him except for his height which barely made him five and one half feet tall. He was born the son of a small Virginia farmer, but he’d had a good family and could have had an honest life except he knew he was destined for greatness.

His father had no time or imagination to see his future importance, so he ran away from home at fifteen and got a job in a western Virginia coal mine. His bosses couldn’t see his greatness either, so he left but not until he learned all there was to know about explosives.

As a young man he founded a very successful chemical manufacturing company specializing in explosives which he sold to the coal mines. He had also married surprisingly well to the daughter of textile merchant, but he lost his factory and fortune during the war. He still had his wife and children, which was more than many had at the end of the war, but it was far from enough for him.

He had rebuilt his business with the rail road expansion west. It had been a good political move by President Grant to back expansion as it gave the reunited country something to focus on and with new territory came new opportunities. He immediately saw the chance to reestablish his company and had become the principle explosives supplier. And now that he had all the money he needed, he was ready for something different, something better: the sweet taste of revenge.

He wouldn’t be here when the first disaster happened, instead he’d be well on his way to South America for the good life. He planned to get a new wife and kids to match his new life. No need to bring extra baggage.

He looked out the coach window. They were approaching the fine part of town and the hotel where the rail road supply meeting was taking place would be coming up soon. He dusted off his hat and stuck it on his thick bushy hair. The best was yet to come, he mused to himself with a self-satisfied smile.

The meeting room was predictably opulent with velvet curtains, wine colored flocked wall paper, thick carpets, with an ornately carved long meeting table dominating the space. Cigar smoke was the predominant odor mixed with occasional whiffs of bay rum as groups of well dressed men gathered in small groups, engaged in conversation with occasional outbursts of haughty laughter.

He loved it. The assumption of wealth, power and social status was his elixir. Add free flowing liquor, and he really began to shine because although he didn’t have the aristocratic breeding, he did have the benefit of knowing how to fight thanks to his time in the mines. He could more than hold his own with these jokers should an exchange of blows occur. No, he didn’t have their breeding but many respected him secretly for his hard scrabble upbringing. After all, not all of them were born with silver spoons in their mouths.

But what he was really looking for was the Eastcott woman. He knew she had checked into the hotel, but apparently hadn’t arrived to the meeting yet. He approached a group of men standing near the door so he could be in the best position to spot her.

Amelia smoothed her dress down one more time. It was a nervous habit and she’d have to be careful not to give herself away in the meeting.

She never really liked these things but she’d learned to handle herself with all the lecherous old and worse, young men, who would patronizingly offer to get her a chair while all the while checking her out like she was some piece of prize beef. At times she could even enjoy their foolish transparent attempts to gain her favor, like a fat rooster strutting the barnyard.

But today she was not in the mood. She continued to sleep poorly worried about Artemus and the guilt she felt that she stood by helplessly while he was kidnapped.

She certainly had a steady stream of fine suitors, many seeking marriage, but that’s why she had enjoyed his company because he asked nothing of her other than her companionship. He was funny, witty, smart, and handsome. And now missing.

Usually she didn’t have her stable man John accompany her to these sorts of things, but today she asked if he wouldn’t mind taking a seat at the back of the room. She hated feeling like she needed reassurance but she also wanted to have him immediately available in case word arrived of Artemus’s whereabouts. She had brought riding clothes with her and she would have John fetch two swift horses for an immediate departure if such news arrived.

She checked herself in the mirror one last time, smoothing out the white high cut bodice of her conservatively styled business attire. Along with the crisp white shirt, she wore a navy waist cut jacket with a matching skirt.

It was times like this that she wondered why she had pleaded with her father for this position as the St Louis representative of the family company. Her father knew she had the business acumen for the job, but had worried about her reputation and sanity to be a lone business woman, which was the reason he had sent his most trusted servant, John, to accompany her. She’d always been a smart independent sort, the kind of personality that any father would wish for their son, except she wasn’t.

Well, it was time to get moving. The meeting would be starting any minute now, which was just the way she wanted it; less free time for the roosters to strut.

The tiresome conversation paid off as he had front row seat to the entrance of Miss Amelia Eastcott. She was shorter than he’d expected but even better for him giving his own height. He immediately jumped forward, offering his arm to show her to a seat. She smiled generously but declined, and a tall thin man suddenly showed up behind her and escorted her to the table where most of the men were already taking their seats. He made up for his poor start though by getting the seat right next to her essentially bulling out a small elderly gentleman.

The meeting toiled on with the various suppliers comparing lists and time tables for delivery of goods for the continued expansion of the rail road lines. Fredrickson proudly said his delivery of explosives was already stock piled at a secondary shipment site, an abandoned mine outside of town, and capably supervised by a master chemist.

He had to bite his tongue to keep the sarcastic grin off his face as he dreamed of the chaos, death, and ultimate failure and embarrassment his contribution would cause the Union.

The Eastcott woman reported on deliveries of lumber for rail road ties with cutting schedules under way in the north woods of New England, but she seemed distracted. As the meeting broke up he asked if she was alright to which she replied she had just gotten news of a very sick relative. She excused herself and went to confer with two gentlemen who ran the freight lines from New York. Her conversation was brief and she left shortly thereafter, smashing his ambitions for the evening’s entertainment.

He stood by himself for a minute again mentally revisiting the delicious scenes of barrels exploding, sending innocent men to a gruesome death. Some of them might even be Southern kin, but this was war and innocent lives were unfortunately lost.

He hired that odd little doctor to watch over the stock pile, knowing he was heavily in debt and in need of some quick cash. Loveless was an escaped criminal wanted by the federal government for lots of different heinous plots, and although he wasn’t a Southern sympathizer, he was an anarchist and probably crazy too, but someone who would never feel the need to expose his plot.

He wondered if he should take a ride out to the mine just to check in, but the doctor had armed men, and the little man knew how to handle trouble makers.

[diddlepie]

It was mid- day by the time they reached the laboratory and adjacent storage room. Weasel pushed Jim over to a large timber ceiling brace, and began to uncoil a heavy rope.

“Wait a minute,” Artie said. “I need him. You can’t tie him up.”

With an incredulous look on his face, the doctor said, “Mr Gordon, in case you’ve forgotten, I make the rules here.”

Artie sat down heavily in a chair. “I need him to be my legs. You want me to sample those barrels, well that’s fine if you have another year for me to hobble around and rest every 10 steps. Look Loveless, I need help and I’ll be dammed if I’d trust one of your men to move unstable explosives around. And by the way, you’ll be dammed too, if they take the same care they used with the chloroform.”

He sighed and wiped his hand across his brow. His voice was resigned. “You win, Loveless. Like you said, to prevent the death of hundreds of innocent railroad workers, we will cooperate. No tricks. Right Jim?”

The little doctor scrutinized the two agent’s faces looking for any indication that there was a secondary motive. After a silent moment, Jim spoke, “No tricks. The only reason I started the fight was to stop you from giving him your medicine, based on your own research that it could cure him as easily as kill him. You know I couldn’t let you do that.”

A large grin spread across the doctor’s handsome face. “As always Mr West, Mr Gordon, you so vigilantly watch out for each other’s welfare. Very noble. I should have seen it coming I suppose last night I shared my findings a bit too freely with you Mr West.”

Weasel stood impatiently with the rope. He didn’t like the possibility that he wasn’t going to get to tie up his arrogant prisoner punishingly tight. “Alright then, you will be free to help Mr Gordon only. You cannot leave this room. And as for my little Indian princess…”

“I am not a princess,” her voice was low but clear.

“Well perhaps I do use the word undeservedly. You are more of a superstitious nuisance, destroying my stethoscope the way you did!” He turned addressing his thugs, “Keep a close eye on her!”

The command seemed to improve Weasel’s mood as well as the other men. “I shall return in a few hours to check your progress Mr Gordon, and I expect to see progress!” He stomped from the room with his distinctive waddle taking one of his men with him.

With Loveless gone the remaining men began to gather loosely, staring at their three prisoners while speaking in low voices. Artie motioned for Faith to come over. He spoke in a whisper. “You were very courageous, destroying the doctor’s prize possession.”

“He is an evil man and a coward,” she said, her eyes clear and her tone confident. “If he were brave he’d go to Washington and share his knowledge and wisdom with other men like him. They would see beyond his size and together these men would help others everywhere to overcome illness, starvation, and evil people who would hurt others for their own gain. But instead he hides behind a curtain of weakness claiming that he has to because the world will be always unfair to him.”

“You know what it’s like to face an unfair world, don’t you Faith?” Her moss green eyes turned to the floor.
“Well let me tell you this, you are a brave, beautiful young woman, and you too have a gift, a gift for healing. I know you and your… medicine, magic, whatever it is, are the reason I’m alive, and I thank you for it. I also thank you for the trust you have put in Jim and I.”

He smiled gently and took her hand pressing it to his lips. “You are my princess,” he said.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and glanced around the room nervously clearly such sentimentality and praise were not something she was accustomed to.

Noting Weasel’s jealous glare, and not wanting another fight, Jim decided it was a good time to move things along. “Artie, let’s get started?”

His partner looked about the room. “I believe Loveless said his notes about the delivery of the barrels and the explosive catalyst are in the file cabinet over in the corner.” Artie rose from the chair and walked over to the lab where various bottles, vials and ingredients stood waiting. Jim pulled the chair over to an available work area, while Faith fetched the carefully labeled folders.

He went to work with a single minded focus Jim had seen so many times in the past. Give Artie a scientific puzzle, and he won’t quit until it’s solved no matter how long it takes. Soon there were multiple paper stacks spread across the desk, and he was calling to Faith to bring him pencils, paper and more paper. He asked Jim to verify the number of barrels and had him bring a small sample to the lab.

Jim asked, “If this stuff is so unstable, how did they get it here in the first place?” as he very carefully placed a teaspoon of the black powder in an open spot on the table.

His partner’s head were buried in the multiple stacks, but he mumbled back, “It’s a darn good question and it looks like the answer is that the catalyst was added here so as to minimize the chance of an accidental detonation.”

He continued to shuffle the papers about, quickly scanning the symbols Jim recognized as chemical elements and formulas. “But here’s the trick to the whole thing! He held up a formula, written in small numbers. “See this?” He was getting excited.

“I see it Artie, but I have no idea what I’m looking at.” Jim replied.

“Didn’t you ever pay attention in school, or were you always flirting with the prettiest girl?” Artie answered impatiently. “Look,” he pointed to a spot towards the bottom of the page. “This is the brilliance of the catalyst. We know that it was added when the barrels arrived here, while the explosive was still relatively stable. But now that the catalyst has been added, when these barrels are put on a wagon and start bouncing as they travel, the friction of the molecules rubbing together combined with the ambient heat from outdoors, will set the chemical reaction in motion. Depending on how rough the road is, they could go off anywhere from ten to a hundred miles from here. And those that don’t go off on the trip to the railway will certainly go off when they get loaded on a supply train.”

He sighed as he leaned back in the chair. “It’s really a brilliant plan Jim as it would also take a while to track down the origin of all those barrels.” Jim nodded in agreement.

“So can you fix it so the catalyst is neutralized?” Jim asked.

“Well that’s the question of the hour isn’t it? I have to analyze this compound more closely. Can I come up with something? Probably, the real question is how long that will take.” He turned back to the papers engrossed in thought.

With his partner immersed at the table, Jim decided he’d go check out the mine shaft on the guise of checking the rest of the barrels. Faith was still standing behind Artie so he motioned for her to come. He really didn’t like leaving her alone with those goons knowing that his partner wouldn’t be able to do much if they should get rambunctious.

Artie never even noticed they’d left.

One of the henchmen made a move to intercept them, but Jim waved him off saying it was Loveless’s orders. Moving around explosives always made him nervous and knowing these barrels were more unstable than normal made him walk even more softly. Jim leaned over and told her to just write down whatever label she saw on each barrel, mostly to look like she was doing something. He was grateful to see that she could write.

He kept an eye on the guards and questioned the young woman when he felt they weren’t looking: Were the horses in the depilated barn behind the church? Was there a carriage there too? Did she know the way back to town and was she a good rider? Would she be willing to take a risk to get them all out safely? And most importantly, was Artie getting better?

She answered discretely and seemed to anticipate his questions. To his last question she responded, “Mr Gordon is still a sick man, but his heart is slowing healing and learning to beat its normal song again.”

Jim smiled, “Thank you, Faith. Thank you for the both of us.”
He leaned down as if checking a barrel, “So what’s your other name, your Indian name? You do have one don’t you?”

She stared at him momentarily her eyes searching for his true question. Confident that his request was genuine she answered. “Hobnockie. It means the one who hears only the truth. My mother gave me the name because she said I would hear many lies in my life and I would need to know the truth.”

He smiled, “It fits you well.”

[diddlepie]

He spent the rest of the day helping Artie read documents, fetching chemicals and keeping track of the various compounds he worked on.

They were both pleased when Faith was escorted from the lab to make evening dinner even though she went with a guard. At least she was still trusted enough to have some independence. Artie was especially pleased it was not the short stocky fellow Jim had taken to calling Weasel.

Loveless showed up a bit later brushing dust off his jacket. His mood was assured and pleasant. “Gentlemen, I am anxious to hear about your progress today. I hear from my men that you have been working very diligently this afternoon. We shall discuss it over dinner, but since you have worked so hard, let’s retreat to my humble house of God, or perhaps I should just say ‘Me’, to relieve the sinuses from these unpleasant persistent odors.”

As he went to stand, Artie realized his legs were not going to cooperate and he would have fallen if Jim had not been standing by.

“I can see Mr Gordon, you found the puzzle as engrossing as I did!” Loveless added gleefully. “Really now, don’t you wish your friend, Mr West, hadn’t been quite so hasty in his decision to destroy my remedy?”

Artie replied by just looking at his partner with an expression of exasperation. Under his breath he whispered, “Yeah and I’d probably be meowing too.”

They traveled back to the church in silence. Jim positioned Artie in the corner where he fell asleep immediately.

Jim had the most unpleasant experience of being the doctor’s one and only dinner guest. Artie never woke and it was up to he and Faith to get him to bed.

Seeing the concern on his face, Faith whispered, “Until Mr Gordon’s heart is strong, he will tire very easily even if he did no physical work. It is important that he rest now. When he wakes later, I will see to it that he eats.”

As he sat there listening to the little man’s prater, Jim began to think maybe his partner was the lucky one.

It was later that evening that he heard a familiar whisper, “Jim! Jim you awake?”

“I am now.”

“I’m sorry Jim, I didn’t want to wake you if you were asleep, but now that I know you aren’t, I found something today that makes me think Loveless is definitely up to something.”

Jim had been sleeping soundly especially considering he had no sleep the night before. Surprisingly Loveless had a cot brought out for him, which was not as comfortable as the bed his partner had, but better than being tied to a railing, and he was only fettered by one handcuff around his ankle.

“I actually was asleep Artie but go ahead.”

“No, no, you go back to sleep. I’ll tell you in the morning. Good night Jim.”

“Artie, what is it?”

No Jim, I’m sorry to wake you. You need your rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

It was times like this that he often wondered how Artie could be so smart and yet so maddening at times. “Artie! What?”

“Well if you must know, I found some notes that weren’t filed properly. They were in with the catalyst formula and I ran it through some calculations… Jim I think Loveless is planning on adding some kind of poison to the barrels.”

Jim rolled his head so he could see his partner, a thin ray of moonlight highlighting his face. “Why would he add something to tainted gun powder that’s going to blow everyone up anyway? Isn’t it literally overkill?” He could see the other man in the dimly lit room, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his arm crossed on his chest.

“Well more than that Jim, I think he plans to add it after we add the neutralizing agent. In a nut shell, he’s planning on adding his poison- or whatever the nasty stuff is- after we’ve converted the barrels back to being just normal, garden variety dynamite. To be honest Jim, I can’t imagine why. What would be the advantage?”

Jim said, “So what you’re saying is he wants us to neutralize this highly explosive stuff so he can add something nasty that will be just as dangerous as the stuff in there now.”

“Yah, that’s it and I can’t figure out why. He said he wanted to get on the government’s good side by exposing the plot and then rectifying it. That’s what he said we’re here for: to verify his story as well as neutralize the catalyst, but this doesn’t make any sense.”

Jim rose up leaning on one elbow, as the logic of the scheme started to settle in, “But then he can say we are the ones who added the poison or whatever it is. He ships out and leaves us holding the bag when people start dropping like flies. So not only does he get to kill everyone who comes near it, he gets to say he tried to stop us, and we are the ones who are responsible for the deaths.”

Still starring at the ceiling, Artie responded, “Ok, even if the plan is to leave us holding the bag, why not do it with the tainted dynamite? Why go through this extra step?”

“I don’t know.” Jim lied back now also staring at the ceiling.

Now it was Artie’s turn to twist onto his side, supporting himself on one elbow while talking, “He’s probably planning on adding it to the barrels when we add the neutralizing agent. It doesn’t look like he needs much of the stuff to be deadly, so he’ll mix it into my compound some time when we aren’t there to witness it, and then WE unwittingly add both compounds to the barrels; the neutralizing agent and the poison.”

Jim rolled onto his side again so the two agents were face to face. “So why doesn’t he just leave the barrels the way there are now, add the poison and then he’ll get even more death and destruction?”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Artie said. “I think the heat from the violent explosion might damage his poisonous agent, plus he probably wouldn’t get maximum contamination because so many barrels might go off in unpopulated areas.”

Jim shook his head. “So Loveless lets this guy Fredrickson manufacture the explosive, transport it here, hire him to guard it, then Loveless basically hi- jacks it and uses it for his own purpose and we get left holding the bag.”

“Yah, I think that’s it.”

“Is there no honor among thieves?”

They were both silent for a minute. And then they both rolled onto their backs again, once more studying the ceiling.
“Artie, you ok?”

“Yah, better every day,” his tone was confident, mostly Jim assumed, to install confidence in him. He wished he could see his face.

“Do you think you can ride out of here?” He could hear his partner’s spoken words it was the unspoken body language he was watching for as he rolled once more onto his side.

“Yah, I can make it. The most important thing Jim is to get Faith out of here safely and dispose of Loveless’s supply of poison before he can hurt anyone.”

“Yeah.” Jim lay back again. He’d have to figure this one out on the fly… but when was that not the case.

[diddlepie]

Amelia Eastcott sat in the hotel lobby sipping the last of her breakfast tea. The meeting had gone well yesterday, but she’d ended up staying overnight as she was tired and it had been too late to make the trip home. She and John had breakfast together and now she was waiting for him to bring the carriage around. She wasn’t pleased when the Fredrickson man sat down next to her.

“Good morning, Miss Eastcott,” he said solicitously. She thought she might pass out from the overpowering odor of his bay rum cologne.

“Good morning,” she replied quickly but keeping her eyes at the hotel door.

He began tiresome small talk about yesterday’s meeting which made her headache even worse. In an effort to stop him, she said, “Excuse me Mr Fredrickson, but I didn’t sleep well with my concern for dear Aunt… Maude.” Why she ever used that name instantly surprised her but of course she was thinking of Artemus who so loved making witty remarks, all quotes from Aunt Maude. She knew Aunt Maude had to be fictitous, but Artie would deny the accusation which such melodramatic emphasis that it always made her laugh.

Unfortunately, instead of making him go away, it gave him new reason to continue the conversation, now sideling over even closer to her. As he went on about illness and how she must feel, she suddenly decided that maybe it would be a good idea to enlist his help. After all he was going out of his way to win her favor, for what was evidently clear to her, but she’d learned long ago how to handle his type and she might as well get something out of it.

“Mr Fredrickson,” she interrupted him, turning in his direction. “Maybe you can help me. I’ve been a little deceptive in my description of my ill relative. I don’t have an Aunt Maude, but I do have a friend who went missing four days ago, and because you have so many connections, maybe you’d be good enough to help me find him.”

He didn’t like the “him” part of the statement but figured after how solicitous he’d been, he had to keep up the sham of playing a concerned friend lest she gossip about him behind his back. It would also give him a good reason to spend time with her, and perhaps a bargaining tool for other favors.

“I’m so sorry to hear about this and of course I’ll do whatever I can to assist you, Amelia. May I call you that?”

He’s wasting no time she thought, but conceded that would be fine. As she began to describe her friend, he became very interested: a government man- a federal law officer- Secret Service no less. And just what was he doing in St Louis he asked now extremely interested, knowing that Loveless was a federal criminal and escapee. Could it be that this Artemus Gordon and his partner were here chasing the little doctor? He’d heard of both of them and knew that if they were here there was a good chance they might stumble across his plot in their search for the dwarf man.

Amelia assured him that Artemus was here for a brief vacation and had chosen St Louis because of the Royal Shakespeare production. That’s what he led you to believe, Fredrickson thought to himself. But if Gordon’s visit was purely pleasure why would he have been kidnapped unless someone knew he was too close for comfort.

He realized his heart was beginning to race with all kinds of disastrous scenarios, like a double cross from the little doctor, or a foolish vendetta that Loveless decided to act out because he knew the two agents were in the area, or of course it could be a completely unrelated action, God knows those two must have plenty after their heads.

He had to think fast as the stable man had arrived with the carriage. He asked for her card and promised he would get right on it. Could he stop by later in the day to tell her what he’d learned? She agreed and with a tip of his hat he saw her out the door.

As the carriage pulled away, he lit a cigar while he considered his options. After a quick check with the local law officers, it appeared that the two secret service agents were not in St Louis on official business or at least they hadn’t made themselves known to be.

He went to the livery, picked up a horse and took a quick ride to the train depot as he heard that their private train had showed up there recently. The engineer was not much help. He was cagey with non-committal answers to his questions about other agents in the area, and where the two secret service agents might be. After watching for awhile, he moved on as there was no other activity around the train.

He headed next to Amelia’s town home. He said he was going to ride out to the mine today where his explosives were stored just to check in. It was a beautiful day and perhaps she’d like to join him.

“What I’m thinking, Amelia, there are drifters who pass through this little deserted mining town, and maybe someone has seen your friend, Mr Gordon. You’ll give a much more accurate description of him than me, and there just might be some detail which would mean nothing to me, but could be an important clue to you.”

He continued as he saw uncertainty in her eyes. “I have men there guarding my stores, but if there is some recent news I can send them immediately to search for your friend.”

She didn’t seem initially to go along with his thinking, but after a few moments she asked him to wait in the parlor while she changed into her riding cloths. As she went up the stairs he turned away from view and a large self-satisfied smile worked its way across his round face.

Amelia knew on one level it was not a good idea, but she was also feeling desperate. Artemus had been missing now for days, and Jim West almost as long. If there was some way she could help him, she had to do it. Fredrickson was right. She’d give a far better description of both of them, and she knew sometimes the biggest clues were the smallest details. As she pulled on her riding boots, she tucked the little derringer she’d purchased three days ago into the boot leg.

They met John at the stable where he had her dappled grey mare saddled. He definitely wasn’t happy about this excursion as evidenced as by his scowl but the only thing he said was he’d be waiting for her return before dark, and he made it clear that he knew the old mining town, suggesting that he’d come looking if she didn’t show up on time.

None of this bothered Fredrickson. If Loveless was holding the two agents, it would be all over by the time darkness fell. It would mean the little man was pursuing his own agenda of revenge, which was of no interest to him.

However, if that was the situation, he’d work it so Loveless killed the two agents, and then he’d kill Loveless, resulting in one less double- crosser in the world, as well as two less lawmen. He’d be a hero for killing a wanted criminal and to make it look even better, he’d attend the funerals of the two tragically killed government agents.

The truth was he didn’t really need Amelia to come, but she was insurance in case things went bad. He’d have a high profile hostage and maybe even some company for his trip to South America. The possibility of ransom also tickled his thoughts.

The day was pleasant as the two riders headed out. Amelia took large steady breaths to control her nerves as Artemus had coached her. He said it was the best remedy for stage jitters and right now she felt like she was entering into a bizarre real life stage drama, except she didn’t know what her part was.

Fredrickson tried hard to make small talk, however his constant questioning about how much she knew about Artemus’s work was obvious. She knew far more than she told him as her father’s advice buzzed in her head: information is power and be careful who you share it with.

“Truly, Mr Fredrickson, I am as interested in Mr Gordon’s work as much as you, but he said he was here to relax and talking about his job was not relaxing. We made a mutual agreement that we would not talk about work, his or mine.” She smiled pleasantly at him hoping it would put an end to the conversation.

[diddlepie]

Dr Miguelito Loveless was sitting down to a late lunch when his sentry came dashing in to report there were two riders approaching, a man, who he thought was Albert Fredrickson, and a woman. Boulder Dash, he said to himself! Fredrickson wasn’t supposed to come here. There wasn’t much time!

“Run! Hurry to my lab and hide the prisoners deep in the mine. Hold a gun on them and tell them if either of them makes a sound, you’ll blow their brains out!”

The sentry started for the door when the little man yelled, “Wait! If anyone fires a shot in the mine it could set the whole blasted thing off! No! Get them out of the mine and hide them in the old boss shack just outside the entrance. Tell them the same deal, one peep out of either of them and they both go.”

“What about the sick one, Doc? I don’t think he can move fast enough to get to the shack before these people get here.”

“Then carry him, you dunder head! Get moving! And make sure you grab every piece of paper, every file, every trace of evidence and take it with you!” he yelled to the disappearing gunman.

He spun around in place speaking to no one in particular, “I’ll have to delay them to buy more time.”

He yelled for Faith. “Pick up anything that is a clue that West and Gordon are here!” She looked at him puzzled, until he yelled again to get moving. “We have uninvited guests arriving any minute, Albert Fredrickson and a woman. I don’t want any evidence of them to be seen!”

The two of them ran about the church picking up any indication that the two men where there. Faith threw blankets over the handcuffs that kept the men attached to the beds at night and hastily stacked the table and chairs used for their meals against the wall.
It was moments later they heard horses approach. Loveless took position on the couch, pulling a small desk alongside. He opened a journal and began writing as if all was well.

“Faith, my dear, I think we have guests. Will you get the door?”

She didn’t need to open it as the posted guard did, greeting the man with a deep, “Howdy, Mr Fredrickson.”

Fortunately the man insisted on robustly shaking hands with his ex-boss, so the business man didn’t catch the full effect that seeing Miguelito Loveless had on his companion. Her mouth dropped open and if it wasn’t for quick thinking to fake a coughing attack by pulling a lace handkerchief from her sleeve to cover her mouth, her unintentational career as an actress would have been over. Here was the maniacally brilliant little man Artemus talked about. There was no other possibility. And she was very sure that Artemus was here someplace. She also realized she was in very serious trouble.

“My Dear, you need some water. Faith, please fetch some cold water for our guests.” His manner was so genteel and friendly she had to jolt herself to react appropriately.

She scrutinized his face to determine if he had caught her reaction to seeing him. Speaking slowly while she struggled to come to grips with this new situation, she said, “I’m afraid I swallowed some of the road on our ride here.” She smiled weakly while brushing off her skirt to avoid making eye contact.

“Indeed, that is a very real hazard of this God-forsaken landscape.” He hopped down from his writing and waddled over to them. “Let me introduce myself. I am Doctor Miguelito Loveless, and you my dear?”

Amelia extended her hand while she prayed he couldn’t see her heart pounding in her chest. “Amelia Eastcott of St Louis and New York,” she said hoping she sounded relaxed and confident.

“I am pleased and honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Eastcott.” He gave a small bow and then turned to the man.
“Albert you should have told me you were coming and I would have had lunch prepared for you and Miss Eastcott.”

Amelia let out a silent sigh of relief that his attention was no longer on her.

Fredrickson moved into the room beyond the doctor, studying the surroundings as he went. “It’s an unexpected visit Miguelito. You see Miss Eastcott is looking for someone and we’re hoping you might have some insight.”

Fredrickson turned now so he had full view of both their faces, his thumbs hooked on his belt, a predatory look across his chubby face. “You see Miss Eastcott has a friend, … a man, who went missing almost a week ago. A Mr Artemus Gordon. We’re hoping you might know something.”

She watched both men fighting the urge to just bolt and run out the door as fast as she could. Just keep concentrating on what you came here for, she told herself, repeating the thought like a prayer. The little man looked at both she and Fredrickson for a long moment, his bright blue eyes deep in concentration.

"Artemus Gordon, Artemus Gordon...." he turned and slowly paced the room in his curious gait.

"Interesting name, unusual isn't it. I do believe I've heard of the gentleman. A government man if I remember." He stopped and stroked his chin thoughtfully. He continued speaking his back to them now.

"He and a partner, James West, if I'm correct have quite a reputation as successful law men, I believe. Is that the gentleman you're looking for, Miss Eastcott?"

"Yes," she replied hoping her voice didn't break.

He spun on his heels suddenly to face them both. He looked at Amelia with a sorrowful eye and said, "I am sorry my Dear but I have not seen your friend." His glance toward her was regretful, but his face was defiant as he glared at the businessman.

Continuing his charade, he walked over to Amelia, his eyes full of concern. “There are drifters that wander through here though. Most are harmless souls, but there are from time to time more nefarious types. That’s why I have guards posted. Are you thinking your friend, Mr Gordon may have come this way?”
His manner now was almost solicitous as he walked up to her, watching her with steady intense blue eyes.

Amelia was certain the room must echo with the sound of her pounding heart, but she pulled herself together and thought, two can play at this game. This is really no different than negotiating a contract with the teamsters for moving timber. Stay calm and take deep breathes and don’t let them see you sweat. A dose of female charm comes in handy too. She was aware he was studying her face for the slightest indication that she suspected him of orchestrating Artemus’s kidnapping.

She cleared her throat still feigning dust from the ride and continued, her voice colored with naivety and a dash of helplessness, “I’m not sure what has happened to him, just that Mr Fredrickson thought he may have come through here either by himself or with others. I was hoping you might have some information. I am so worried!” She fanned herself with the hanky grateful that it gave a release for her strained nerves.

“Perhaps we can help, my Dear.” Loveless strode back to the center of the room self-assuredly, seeming to challenge Fredrickson for command of the situation. Whether Loveless had any suspicion of her, she couldn’t tell, but he seemed to be confronting Fredrickson which made her mind spin more than ever. Wasn’t Fredrickson the boss? Maybe it wasn’t Loveless who kidnapped Artemus, -if he was even here. Maybe it was Fredrickson who took Artemus and Loveless is just himself figuring it out?

But why would Fredrickson have been so keen to have her ride out here with him? Or were they working together?

The tension of the moment was broken by Faith as she brought in a large pitcher of water. She quietly appraised the scene as a standoff. She placed the pitcher on the table and poured a glass of cool water for each of them serving Amelia first. The room was silent as each participant took advantage of the moment to regroup.

She approached the other woman, making explicit eye contact. As she handed her the glass, she slipped a small object in her hand and made a soft shush noise with her pursed lips. She turned and served the rest of the room never looking again at her. Amelia was tempted to immediately examine what was in her clasped hand, but instead slid it unseen into her skirt pocket.

Loveless eyed his visitors haughtily as they drank. He wasn’t sure what they were up to and most likely they weren’t working together anyway. The woman must be Gordon’s romantic interest, sucked into this exploit by her charming but foolish desire to rescue him. Perhaps Fredrickson envisioned an intellectual chess game with the loser being left holding the bag and two dead secret service agents.

And then there was Faith, his little Indian princess who turned out to be smarter than he anticipated. She stood by the door holding the water pitcher watching the Eastcott woman, a successful educated woman and the lady who had Gordon’s eye. He had not been blind to Faith’s attention to the injured man. Now he watched as the half-breed contemplated the white woman across the room, probably regarding her as a rival. It would be interesting to see how jealousy played into the game.

He ended the silence saying, “Why don’t we head to the mine. You can check on your stock Albert, which I can assure, is just as you left it, and we can ask the men if they’ve seen your friend, Miss Eastcott.” He indicated the back door of the church, and he followed them out but not until he whispered to Faith, “Any word about West and Gordon and I’ll have them killed instantly and then deal with you later.”

[diddlepie]

He told the wagon driver to go extra slow, another diversion to give the goons more time to deal with the evidence. He wasn’t worried they would reveal his secret. Fredrickson had hired them originally, but the little doctor paid them now and well over what they were worth, but he was buying their loyalty, if you could call their motivation for money, loyalty. The one gunman who was still loyal to Fredrickson, he had stationed as a sentry. It worked out well as the guard was never in the mine to see what was happening and he felt there was justice as it forced the fool to suffer all weather conditions, camped out on the bluff overlooking the road.

There were no outward signs of anything amiss when they arrived at the tunnel entrance and the little man escorted them in, keeping Faith close by.

Artemus and Jim had only arrived a few moments earlier to the mining boss shack, just off to the side of the entrance. Weasel had been assigned the job of moving them and the hasty shift had Artie breathing heavily.

The shack was a small wood structure with sturdy walls and a single window that overlooked the entrance, the glass long since missing. Weasel pushed them into the corner holding the gun on them while Loveless and his guests walked by. Through a knot hole Artemus could see Amelia, a small gasp escaped his lips.
“Jim we got to do something!” he whispered urgently.

Weasel was busy watching the group enter the tunnel and moved over to the open door giving the two agents a moment to talk.

“There’s one guard in the mine, and one at the entrance. That leaves Weasel here, and the wagon driver who looks like he’s gone inside with the others. If I can get a gun,” motioning to Weasel, “I can sneak back inside, disarm the entrance guard and that leaves only the two guards inside.”

“And then what?” Artie asked.

“I’ll surprise Loveless and Fredrickson and then we just tie up the bad guys and go home.” He flashed a half-baked grin as Artie could feel his partner tensing as he got ready for action.

“You’ve got to get the women out,” Artie replied panic starting to creep into his voice.

“Yeah.” Jim pondered for a minute.”Artie, how do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” Artie repeated a bit incredulous. “You think this is a good time to talk about how I feel? Why?”

“Because you’re about to have a terrible relapse.”

His partner’s eyes instantly registered the plan. Artie suddenly clutched the front of Jim’s shirt, his face twisted in pain. “Artie!” Jim called anxiously. Gosh, sometimes he wished Artemus Gordon wasn’t so good at what he did. Weasel turned to see the government man slowly slipping to the floor as his partner gently laid him down.

“What’s the matter with him?” Weasel asked nervously.

“He’s having a heart attack! Running out of the mine was too much for him. He needs medical attention now or he’s going to die, and you can’t have your boss’s prize prisoner die!”

Weasel fidgeted with his rifle, clearly feeling the pressure.

“Come on!” Jim called again.”He’s not going to make it unless you get Loveless out here now!”

Weasel called to the guard at the mine entrance, “Red, go tell the doctor that Gordon is real sick!”

The man gave a wave of acknowledgement and disappeared into the darkness.

A few minutes later, Red came running out with Faith. “The doctor said he can’t come now but sent the girl. Is he still alive?”

Faith dove to Artie’s side, placing her fingers at his neck for a pulse. It was regular and although not strong, it was not life threatening. She looked at Jim questioningly. A wink from the handsome man as well as an unobserved squeeze of her hand from the patient let her in on the deception.

She put her ear to Artie’s chest, and then turned to Weasel. “You better get Doctor Loveless.” Her voice was tense.

Weasel motioned for Red to get the doctor and the man left at a run. The sick man was no longer moving and lay quietly on the worn wooden floor.

“Is he dead?” Weasel nervously asked.

“No, but he wouldn’t be in this condition if you hadn’t forced him to run!” his partner said.

This is just what Weasel was worried about. He really didn’t want that West fellow mad at him. He had gotten a good whipping in their last go around, and the man was looking mad now.

“Look Mister, I was only doing what Loveless told me to do. I’m truly sorry if your friend is sick. Jim began to rise, and Weasel clutched his rifle tighter. “Just stay where …”.

He never got to finish his sentence as Jim rammed into him with a suddenness that shocked Faith. One minute he was standing next to his ailing partner, and in the next he had launched himself like a mountain lion on an unsuspecting deer.
Weasel went down with a yelp and the agent finished him off with a right cross to the jaw.

Artie spoke from the floor, “Can I breathe now?”

“Yeah,” Jim answered but don’t get used to it, “We’ll have company again any minute.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Red came charging out of the tunnel, and ran straight through the open shack door and directly into Jim West’s fist. He sank to the floor beside a still unconscious Weasel.

But Dr Miguelito Loveless was a cautious man. He had given a phony excuse to leave the cave when Red had told him the Gordon man was seriously dying. And now as he emerged from the tunnel, he saw neither of his men at the shack, although the door was open. He could make out the shape of a body on the ground and it wasn’t Gordon. Knowing that he hadn’t been seen, he ducked into a low narrow side shaft of the tunnel and watched, gun drawn. A few moments later he heard voices, familiar voices. “I don’t think he’s coming Artie.” He heard the sound of a rifle barrel being checked for bullets.

“I’m going in.”

“I’ll go with you,” the second slightly deeper voice said.
There was further hushed conversation that Loveless couldn’t catch, but ultimately only one man, James West, exited moving quietly into the tunnel. He passed not more than six feet from the concealed Dr Loveless, a fact that made the little man snicker. He checked his gun and moved ahead with his new plan.

[diddlepie]

When the guard appeared again in the mine breathless from running back and forth, Loveless excused himself saying he had to go to the kitchen for an urgent manner. The doctor left quickly with the gun man leaving Amelia and Fredrickson in the store room/ laboratory with the one remaining guard.

Fredrickson wandered over to the back of the store room while the gunman stood by looking bored. Amelia moved over to the work table and withdrew the small object that the Indian girl had given her earlier. It was a pewter button. She recognized it instantly as being off of Artemus’s tuxedo, the one he’d worn the night he was kidnapped. Clutching it tightly, she closed her eyes, and slipped it back into her pocket.

As she turned back to the room, she wasn’t sure what had just happened, but Mr Fredrickson was behaving very oddly. He had checked the barrels of explosives and now paced restlessly saying they needed to leave now. The guard said they were to wait for the little doctor’s return, but Fredrickson looked nervously at the storage area and said they needed to get out immediately.

She suggested that he come sit down but he had waved her off with some crude language. Even the guard had reacted to his strong words telling him to relax, the doctor would be back shortly. But he tried to walk around the gun man who shoved him back roughly and the next thing Amelia knew the two men were fighting, throwing punches wildly while Fredrickson shouted they had to get out or they were all going to die.

Her heart pounding, she took advantage of the distraction and backed her way over to the exit. She pulled the derringer from her riding boot, and pointing it at the men, she yelled, “STOP!”
The two men stopped mid-blow and stared at her in disbelief.

“Don’t shoot!” Fredrickson screamed.

He clamored to his feet while putting his hands up and barked at the other man to do so also. The guard looked at the woman who was clearly nervous and could be easily overpowered and wondered why Fredrickson didn’t just grapple her instead of trying to bargain with her.

“Come on lady, you don’t want to hurt anyone. Look, if us fighting was scaring you, we’ve stopped. See? So just hand me the gun and I promise I won’t hurt you, and I won’t even tell the doctor. Ok?” Fredrickson was blatantly pleading with the woman.
He began to slowly approach her, as she took small steps backwards.

“Don’t come any closer,” she said cocking the little gun. The thug started moving closer from the other side.

“Don’t shoot! And you stop!” Fredrickson yelled. He was visibly sweating. Wiping his brow, he pointed a shaky finger. “If you shoot we’re all going to go up in a massive explosion!”

“Why don’t you tell us more about that, Mr Fredrickson… I believe that is your name.” A new voice spoke coming out of the tunnel.

“James West, is that you?” Amelia asked not turning around but clearly feeling relieved.

“Yes, and Artie sends his best too.” He paused as he stood beside Amelia holding a rifle on the two men.
“So tell me Mr Fredrickson, why is it so important not to upset this very special batch of your own personally mixed explosive?” He smiled with a tight grin.

“We need to get out of here,” Fredrickson repeated more contained but with renewed urgency.

“Is that because not only are we surrounded by dynamite, but dynamite that is so fragile it could be set off by say, a lady’s delicate sneeze?” James asked, knowing the answer.

“Look West, if that’s your name, let’s just go outside and we can discuss this.”

“No, I kind of like it here, and I think we should wait till the good doctor returns. After all it wouldn’t be polite to go running off without saying a proper goodbye.”

[diddlepie]

With help from Faith, Artemus Gordon got to his feet. If he had some rope, he’d tie up the two unconscious men heaped in the corner, but no time now. He was going to get Faith out of harm’s way and then he’d head into the mine. He picked up the second rifle. As they exited the shack, the all too recognizable sound of a pistol being cocked, stopped them in their tracks.

“Well, Mr Gordon, I see you have made a remarkable recovery. The last I knew you were on death’s doorstep,” the little man chuckled. “Now put the gun down nice and slowly and I won’t have to shot the girl.”

Artemus slowly lowered the rifle, speaking as he set it on the ground. “Well you see, a minute ago I was going to die, but then the devil said he’d already taken his quota for the day, so I was just going to have to wait.”

“Always with the clever answers, Mr Gordon.” The doctor’s tone changed quickly to icy severity. “Where’s your notes, Mr Gordon? The notes you’ve made on your work for the neutralizing agent. I want them now!”

“Oh, you mean the notes on my neutralizing compound along with your files on the poison you plan to add to the barrels? You know you really should be more careful with your filing.”

Loveless bristled realizing his plot had been discovered. “You found those?” he asked uselessly.

“Oh yes, and Jim found your little stash of poison too. The only thing I hadn’t figured out yet was just how you were going to spread it. But it’s a neat little plan, I’ll give you that. Double cross Fredrickson, while making yourself out as a hero, with Jim and I as your witnesses, and then poison half the western territories with the new rail road line delivering your deadly cargo.”

“I am sad to see our little partnership will be ending soon Mr Gordon. I had hoped that you might learn to appreciate my point of view more fully, as I find you a useful if not misguided colleague. But C’est La Vie.” He waved the gun in the direction of the mine opening. “Now if you and my dear Faith will move into the tunnel, I think we can have a pleasant if not brief reunion with your lovely lady friend and Mr West.”

Artemus shuffled his feet as they walked across the hard packed dirt floor. If Jim was hiding, he wanted to give him as much warning as possible. But unfortunately as they arrived at the store room, he could see they were back to square one, as Loveless cocked his pistol and aimed it at Faith.

“Well, now that we’re all together…, I really don’t know what to say,” giggled the little man excitedly. “I must admit, I never pictured things turning out this way, but how fortuitous for me, and how dismal for you.”

Fredrickson quickly grabbed Amelia’s derringer while the guard disarmed Jim. The two women and agents were pushed into the middle of the room.

Jim said, “So Loveless are you going to tell your boss here, Mr Fredrickson, that you figured out his plan to bring down President Grant and the Union with his highly unstable explosives?”

“What?” Fredrickson began to seethe, his huge muscular hands tensely gripping the little derringer. “I knew I should never have trusted you.” He spit the words, his round face turning red.

“Yeah and I bet Mr Fredrickson doesn’t have a clue about the double cross that the good doctor has planned,” said Artie to his friend in a conversational voice.

The large framed man spun on the little doctor. “Loveless, I’ll kill you right here if you’ve done anything… anything to those barrels!”

“Albert, can’t you see what they are trying to do?” Loveless replied trying hard to keep the worry out of his voice. “They’re trying to deceive you into thinking that something is wrong that will ruin your plan… whatever it is.”

“Well whatever you do, let’s just not fire any weapons in here,” Jim said looking over at the neatly stacked barrels.”

“What’s the matter with the barrels?” the guard asked now getting nervous. His eyes darted back and forth between Loveless and Fredrickson all the while keeping his gun on the group of prisoners. “Mr Fredrickson was just saying we should get out of here now!”

Jim smiled, “Well, we certainly don’t want to shoot any guns in here that’s for sure or we’ll all be going to see our Maker today.”

“All of you, MOVE!” Fredrickson demanded. He was obviously edgy, waving the derringer, and shouting. As he rounded everyone up to herd them out of the cave, Artie held back feigning weakness. He fell as Fredrickson shoved him which gave Jim the moment he needed. As the women gathered to help the sick man to his feet, Jim swung hard on the beefy business man hitting him in the stomach.

Mayhem broke out as Loveless shouted to the guard who was bringing his rifle up on West, “Don’t shoot! West is right, the first shot in here and we’re all going to Kingdom Come!”

The gun man hesitated for a moment watching the fight between the stout but powerfully built business man and the government agent. Loveless suddenly took off and ran further inside the cave which made no sense, and although the fight looked like it was going to be a good one, the gun man realized this was no longer a paying job. He took off at a dead run for the cave entrance yelling, “Red, Weasel! Run!”

Artie scrambled to his feet, grabbing the two women and moving them out of harm’s way.

Jim West was an imposing fighter, a man few would ever want to take on by themselves, but it looked like he may have found an unlikely match in Fredrickson. Clearly the man was a business man in name alone. The fact was he was the most dangerous kind of opponent: deceivingly fast, with fists that matched the kick of a mule, and dirty. He watched as he tried to strike his partner in the groin only stopped by Jim’s fast reaction. Fredrickson then charged with a grizzly bear grapple, catching Jim in midsection, driving them both to the ground. Jim was under the much heavier man who was preparing to pommel the younger man’s face, except in one fluid move, Fredrickson was being tossed over his intended victim’s head.

Fredrickson was rapidly learning that Jim West was a tightly coiled spring, with a disciplined body and a variety of athletic skills that made him the unparalleled fighter he was.
The agent was on his feet in a flash ready for the next onslaught, but the man made an unforeseen move of launching himself like a rocket from the floor and hitting Jim in the knees, and dropping him hard. Stunned by the fall, Jim was unprepared for the onslaught of fists, as the man began pounding his face one blow after another.

Artie was in no shape to join the fray, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the chair he’d first used to sit in when Loveless had brought them both to the mine. He ran for it and slammed it across the man’s broad back. It was like hitting a rock as the chair flew apart.

Fredrickson stopped and Artie waited for him to keel over, but instead he abandoned his assault on Jim and slowly rose with murder on his face and turned towards his new foe. Artie barely had time to react when suddenly the broad shouldered man was falling onto him like a downed red wood tree. He immediately side stepped avoiding the full brunt of the man’s mass as he crashed to the ground. Standing together behind him was Faith and Amelia. Between them they held a large mine timber and a look of stunned success was spreading across their faces.
Artie ran over to Jim.

“Come on Jim, we gotta get out of here. We’ll pick up Fredrickson when and if he wanders out. This whole place is gonna go!”

“Where’s Loveless?” Jim asked, wincing as he rubbed his face.

“He ran further inside the mine,” Artie answered hurriedly. “I don’t know where he thinks he’s going, but he’s gone the wrong way!”

Jim picked up one of the rifles when a voice called out.

“Not so fast, Gentleman.” It was Fredrickson stumbling to his feet as he held the derringer to Amelia Eastcott’s head. Blood dripped from a deep cut over his left eye, but his hold on the woman was firm. “I’ll be glad when I get rid of you two once and for all. And as for that little double-crosser Loveless, his days are numbered.” He motioned for Faith to move alongside the two men. “Now I’m not sure just what you two have done or what you’re even up to, but I will not be cheated out of my revenge against General Grant and his damn Union! He stole everything from me and I intend to make him and everyone else who agrees with him, pay!”

Amelia gasped in pain as he squeezed her arm so tight tears begin to flow down her face. Artie began to step forward only stopped by his partner’s vise like grip on his arm.

“Let the women go, Fredrickson. It’s us you want.” Jim said.

A sly smile spread on the man’s lips. “I don’t think so government man. I guess these ladies need to think more carefully about who they associate with. You two are already dead, but the ladies will get me out of here, maybe even out of the country,” he sneered.

He motioned for the tunnel exit with the gun. “Now we’re all going to walk out of here nice and calm so I can figure out just what you two have done and then I’ll take great pleasure in gunning you both down like stray dogs.”

The two agents glanced at each other and Jim knew his partner’s sickening intent the split second before Artemus moved. He grabbed to stop him but Artemus Gordon had already pitched himself at Fredrickson as the gun fired. For a moment the two men stood, caught in a death grip, as gun smoke slowly begin to swirl up between their bodies. He was vaguely aware of a woman screaming in the background. It seemed like the seconds lingered for hours but in fact it was only a moment before he finally got his feet to move. He ran to Artie ready to bash Fredrickson’s face with a blow powered by despair and grief, but instead he watched as Fredrickson crumpled to the ground, leaving a broad streak of blood across the front of his friend’s shirt.

He looked incredulously at the still standing Artemus Gordon.
“Artie, you could have been killed… you should have been killed!”

An equally surprised Artemus Gordon replied, “I don’t know what happened. I guess the gun backfired. Maybe the gun barrel got packed with dirt when you two were fighting.” He looked at Jim with wonderment still not believing that he was alive.

“Yeah, well personally I think you’ve used up a cat’s nine lives in the last five days.”

The sound of a single barrel falling over echoed through the cavern. They stared at each other as their situation became clear. Another barrel fell, followed by a third.

“The gun shot must have set them off! Come on let’s get out of here!” Jim yelled.

He grabbed his partner while Artie waved Faith to run ahead of them. With Amelia on his other side, Jim made a mad dash for the entrance as the first explosion roared behind them. The acrid smell of burnt chemicals and earth assaulted their noses as they ran. Faith sprinted ahead of them, but Artie was sounding like a race horse that wasn’t going to make the finish line, his breath coming out in loud gasps. Jim yelled for the girl to help and she quickly fell along Artie, her slim arm wrapping around his waist. A second larger blast almost knocked them down as it rushed out of the tunnel like an angry bull. The heat threatened to burn the skin off their backs as it sought to escape the hellish chasm.

More explosions were occurring and Jim knew that soon it would be all over when the entire store room would blow. Artie, he thought, one more of those nine lives would be good right now because I don’t think we’re going to make it.

The air was hard to breathe, thick with smoke and the burning smell of chemicals. Artie stumbled but was back on his feet quickly. Jim realized he was half pulling, half dragging Amelia but she was still running.

Another wave of hellish heat once again enveloped them and the walls came alive, full of screaming timbers as the cave supports began to give in to their inevitable death. A thread of sun light was now visible but with its vision came talons of hellfire licking the bulwarks threatening them with its fatal kiss. Only another few hundred feet and at least we won’t die and be buried forever in this hell, Jim hoped.

The light was growing bigger now. Almost there. He could see the boss shack! Almost there! That was the last thing he remembered as they were thrown from the tunnel by a force bigger than anything he could have imagined.

[diddlepie]

John knew what he needed to do after Amelia had left with the Fredrickson. That man was up to no good, and unfortunately Miss Amelia wasn’t thinking straight.

He saddled up his own horse, a sturdy, reliable buckskin and rode directly to Mr Gordon’s train. He introduced himself to the chief engineer, a fellow named Orrin and they shook hands, both men with a grip that would sink a tender foot to their knees. John told him he was heading for the mining town with the full expectation there was trouble. He didn’t know for sure if Mr West or Gordon were involved but if he was a betting man, he’d put his money on it.

John could see the engineer sizing him up, carefully considering his trustworthiness and motives. Orrin listened to his story and didn’t say much but promised he’d make sure that whoever needed to know would get his message. He took clear directions to the old mining town and told John to be careful out there, there just might be some law men showing up. As John rode away he looked back and saw the engineer lead a chestnut mare out of stable car. He quickly slipped a bridle on the animal and took off at a swift gallop bare- back towards the city center.

John knew where the old mining town was and started off at a comfortable lope. No need to tire his horse out prematurely, they both might need some extra fortitude later. He wore his sidearm, something he seldom did but he knew when Mr Eastcott had sent him to St Louis with Miss Amelia to keep an eye on things, it was not for her business dealings, but for her personal safety. St Louis was the last civilized town before the wide open west, and it was always a question as to just how civilized it really was. He did not trust that Fredrickson character, and knew that Miss Amelia didn’t either, but he also knew love made people do irrational things.

Miss Amelia’s tracks were easy to follow. He could see they had ridden conservatively, at a slow canter. That Fredrickson man was probably busy grilling Miss Amelia with all sorts of questions and didn’t want to get there too soon.

His old boxing days came in real handy when a lone sentry tried to stop him as he approached the town. He pretended to be looking for a lost horse, which was just enough of a diversion to catch the man off guard. A few well placed right jabs and a left hook to the chin, and he had the man tied up, and gagged in the shade of tree.

The old mining town was quiet. He tied his horse up in a thick grove of bushes, and he crept into the center. It was much as it had a year ago when he came out here, with the exception of the church which had been cleaned up.

He peered through what was left of a broken window, and saw signs of recent habitation. He could tell by the orderly arrangement of furniture and personal items it wasn’t bums who were living there, but someone much more organized and purposeful.

It seemed no one was inside so he moved cautiously to the back of the building and was greeted by a soft nicker. Miss Amelia’s dappled mare shook its head with anticipation of attention. He walked over to it alert for any sign of activity. The mare nuzzled his arm and he stroked her neck to calm his own nerves as much as hers.

He saw fresh wagon tracks running along a rutted well traveled path towards the old mine shaft. The mares ears suddenly flicked forward and she raised her head sniffing the wind. A second later he heard the sound of approaching horses. Hiding in its shadow, he ran to the front of the building to see the engineer, still riding the chestnut and another tall thin man holding a large rifle, the butt balanced on his knee as they reined their horses to a stop.

He called out, “Miss Amelia is here with that man, and by the looks inside the church, I think your Mr West and Gordon are here too.”

The engineer spoke first, “We saw your handiwork on the sentry back there in the trees. This is Mr Jeremy Pike, he’s another secret service agent sent out here to look for Mr Gordon. I’m not supposed to come on these things but I figured I would to even out the numbers a bit since Mr Pike says the police will be on their way but maybe not soon enough.”

Still mounted, Pike said, “So I take it there is no one here?”

“No, but there are fresh wagon tracks in the back, and Miss Amelia’s horse is tied up there.

“West is here too. We found his horse in the barn around the side.” Pike said as he surveyed the surroundings.

From the distance came a low deep rumble. They stopped, each staring at the others face as if the explanation would appear there. Another rumble followed accompanied by a slight quaking in the ground.

“The mine!” John shouted. Follow the road out back!”

Pike and Orrin kicked their mounts to a gallop as they rounded the church with John running hot on their heels. He grabbed the reins of the startled grey mare and drove his heels into her flanks for a full out run.

Their noses were assaulted with the acrid smell of earth and explosives as they drew closer. A driverless cart came careening down the narrow road pulled by a very frightened horse. John made a mental note to find that animal later. They managed to rein their own mounts off to the side so not to be trampled by the terrified combination of cart and horse. The rumbles had turned to thunderous roars and they had to fight their horses to continue towards the sound when the animals, sensing the danger, just wanted to flee.

The road straightened out and they could see dirt, smoke and tendrils of fire belching from the cave opening. John would remember later it was at that moment he began praying.

Pike leapt from his horse and ran toward the cave opening, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose. Orrin was yelling something as he ran but his voice was lost in the chaos of explosions. John ran too, tears beginning to run down his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the chemicals or the fear that was washing over him that he’d let Miss Amelia down.

From the hot, smoky breath of the mine it looked like four figures were emerging, running raggedly. It was just then that Pike’s voice cut through the maelstrom, “GET DOWN!” Whether he dove or was crushed down, John would never know, but an angry gale of ash, smoke and fire rained down on them as the cave gave up the fight and surrendered to the power of a mad man’s vision of revenge.

[diddlepie]

Pike peered through the air still thick with dirt as it hung waiting for gravity to reclaim it. He began to crawl on his hands and knees through the rubble and smoke to the spot where he last saw what he hoped were his fellow agents. The cave continued to groan but the blast had been the finale. His eyes stung with dust and his mouth was full of dirt. He had the distinct feeling that one of his arms was bleeding.

He could see the spot where he saw them catapulted from the entrance. There were bodies protruding from a pile of dirt and ash. He recognized Jim West first by his signature blue suit.

They were all face down, having been thrown as they made the last sprint. He hurriedly dug to free Jim checking for a pulse on his exposed neck. It was strong. Making sure he had a clear air way, he furiously moved on to the next body. He heard someone running up behind him, and the Eastcott stable man dropped down to his knees beside him. His face was covered with dirt and he was bleeding from the head. “Help me. There’s someone under West, a woman I think.”

They dug with their hands frantically. Jeremy looked at the stable man as blood continued to drip down his face from a deep cut on his forehead, splattering in little drops as it hit the dirt in front of their clawing hands. But there was no time for that now.

Slowly a woman began to immerge and it appeared West must have thrown himself on top of her in the final explosion. He had his right arm protectively wrapped around her waist and the other hand covering her forehead. He could see her clothing which was of good quality and he assumed she was the business woman that the stable man was looking for, and Artemus’s friend. He found a pulse in her now exposed right wrist. Thankfully it too was strong and steady.

“Miss Eastcott?” He asked.

“Yes, yes,” the stable man answered, his face both distressed and relieved at the same time. He wiped away the persistent trickle of blood with his filthy shirt sleeve seemingly unaware that the annoyance was his own blood.

As they dug to free the woman, Orrin stumbled in silently, and immediately fell to his knees digging frantically at the third body. Glancing over his shoulder as he dug to free the woman, Jeremy knew by the build it was Artemus Gordon. “Is he alive?” he called over his shoulder.

The seconds felt like eternity as he waited for an answer from the engineer. He heard the grunts of physical effort as Orrin continued to dig. “Orrin!” he called again.

“Mr Gordon is alive, but he’s not good.” The engineer sat back on his haunches for a moment to catch his breath when he saw a small thin arm lying alongside Artemus. “Who’s this?” he said to no one in particular.

He renewed digging in earnest and found another body, a small young woman. Jeremy ran over and took the young woman’s wrist and was rewarded with a strong steady pulse. Who she was would be a mystery for awhile.

Dust and dirt continued to fall from the sky like a light drizzle of rain. Interrupting their work was a deep groan and a shaky James West began to move.

John called for help as Jim tried to stand. Jeremy ran to his side to help him to his feet as he doubled over in a fit of coughing. They needed to move carefully among the tightly packed pile of bodies and rubble so as not injure Amelia.

“The women?” Jim asked in a dazed rough voice. He needed both men to hold him up. The back of his jacket was singed and undoubtedly he had burns on his back that would require treatment.

“The women seem to be ok, although we don’t know for sure.” Jeremy answered as he looked over his fellow agent for other injuries.

Orrin continued digging Artemus and the other woman out of their premature grave, or so he hoped. Mr Gordon did not look well at all and he was breathing very shallowly. The woman, or maybe she was just a girl, began to cough.

John jerked his head toward Amelia, asking with his eyes if he could go back to attend to her, if Jeremy could manage West himself. Jeremy gave a quick nod and continued to hold his fellow agent steady. He wanted to tell Jim to just sit down, but he knew there was no possibility that Jim would comply as long as his partner’s condition was unknown. Jim seemed unaware that Jeremy was still by his side with a strong arm holding him steady. He stumbled toward Artie. “He alive?” he asked quietly.

“He’s alive, Mr West,” Orrin replied still digging, “his pulse isn’t as strong as it should be. I can see blood on the front of his shirt but I can’t …”

“It’s not his.” Jim interrupted. He swayed slightly. “He’s had a heart attack. Loveless kidnapped him to work on the explosives.” He motioned to the destroyed mine behind him. “He overdosed him with chloroform when he was kidnapped and it damaged his heart.” He looked at Jeremy just realizing that he was holding him steady.

“Where’s Fredrickson?” Jeremy asked.

“In there,” Jim motioned behind him to the remnants of mine, “… and on the front of Artie’s shirt.”

Jeremy looked at him quizzically, but there would time for explanations later. “What about Dr Loveless?”

“Same.”

“Come on, we got to get them out,” Jim said flatly as he feel to his knees and started digging.

One by one Amelia, then Faith and finally Artemus began to come to. He had the same burns on his back as Jim and was in the worst shape of the four of them. Between inhaling the dust and smoke of the explosion, and the sprint out of the tunnel, he was severely out of breath. They carefully turned him over and lay him in a semi-reclined position using the dirt that had buried them as his back rest. Faith sat next to him, holding his hand while gently humming the same repetitious melody that Jim had heard her sing before. She favored her right shoulder, Jim noticed, but she asked for no assistance and just held it tightly to her chest as she continued her quiet chant.

Artemus lay still, eyes shut. Jim knew he was using all his focus to remain calm and not challenge his already damaged heart. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “We’re out Artie. But you gotta quit getting me into trouble, friend.”

An almost imperceptible nod was his partner’s only response.

Orrin ran back to the horses and brought back the canteens as well as a Jeremy’s bed roll. Amelia was sitting on the other side of Artemus, still stunned by what had happened. They wrapped her in the bedroll as she began to shiver uncontrollably.

“I’m going to get that carriage you saw in the barn,” John said urgently. “We’ve got to get these people to the doctor,” and he took off at a run down the rutted road. He was so intent on his mission that he failed to notice the fresh tracks from a small horse cart that cut off onto an unused side road that lead around to the far side of the mine.

[diddlepie]

Over the next few days the cavalry arrived from Fort Jefferson and what was left of the mine was searched and secured.

Loveless’s poison was gone without a trace. Artemus theorized that the heat of the explosion had destroyed it. Unfortunately all of Loveless’s records as well as the work Artie had done had also been destroyed. Whatever the evil brew was for the little doctor’s venom was gone.

Loveless’s gun men were also nowhere to be found other than the one sentry who had the most unfortunate luck of meeting John’s rusty but still effective right hook.

There were the obvious witnesses to Fredrickson’s death. No body would ever be recovered. As for Loveless, Jim had explored the mine with Faith when they helped Artie develop the neutralizing compound. He reported he saw no evidence of light shafts or moving air currents to indicate there was any other way out of the mine other than the one entrance. Why Loveless had run further into the mine was a mystery to the authorities. The cavalry captain in charge of the search speculated that he became confused and accidently ran the wrong way and was now very dead.

Why James West and Artemus Gordon did not agree with his conclusion was a mystery to him.

[diddlepie]

Artemus was ordered to Washington by Colonial Richmond for medical treatment and evaluation. After much fussing and a few favors called in, Amelia Eastwood and her father prevailed upon Colonial Richmond to let him return to St Louis, for convalescence and rest under Amelia's watchful eye. Needless to say Artie was more than happy with the arrangement and Amelia hired Faith to assist, a situation that seemed to work for all involved.

Jim was too restless to return to Washington, and convinced Richmond to let him work with Jeremy to wrap up the case with the local law authorities.

He needed regular treatment for his burns and agreed to daily visits with the local doctor whom happened to have a very attractive brunette nurse who checked his bandages and changed them as needed. Jeremy said that he’d never seen Jim so compliant.

After three weeks of recuperation at Amelia’s, Artie was finally given a clean bill of health and told he could return to “light” duty for now. There had been a major theft of currency paper which was in shipment from the factory in Massachusetts to Washington when it was stolen. The two agents were to backtrack it through Washington and then Philadelphia to pick up its trail. Their orders were to work the paper trail only, no foot work. Jeremy Pike would join them later to follow up on their findings. They would leave in the morning.

Jim rode from the Wanderer to Amelia’s town home with Artie’s horse, Mesa, in tow. Artie had promised an exquisite farewell dinner of pheasant with Louisiana rice and fresh grilled peaches and Artie seldom disappointed. Jim was greeted at the door by Faith. Her dark hair was loose at her shoulders and she wore a simple, but attractive lilac dress, and a smile, something Jim had never seen before. John was busy setting the table and greeted Jim warmly, catching himself at the last minute from giving Jim a hearty pat on the back.

Artie appeared from the kitchen smiling broadly with Amelia right behind. He looked rested and the grey cast that had colored his face was finally gone. They all sat down at Amelia’s beautifully set table of silver, fine china and blazing candelabra.

It was good to see Faith smile and even laugh, something that a few weeks ago she didn’t seem capable of. And even more good news was Amelia was keeping her on as her assistant. Artie had spent much of his recuperation tutoring her in math. She was a quick learner and Amelia said she’d never meet anyone with such solid common sense and the ability to read people as Faith. “She’s almost a mind reader, you know,” she laughed over their final glass of sherry. Artie shot back a mischievous smile and gave Amelia a peck on the cheek. She blushed most attractively, thought Jim.

There were promises made to keep in touch and promises to get rest, promises to stay safe and promises not to go for rides in the country with strange men.

As they stopped at the door for the final farewells, Artie leaned down and gave Faith a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “You are my hero, Hobnockie and Faith” he said to the young woman, using both her Indian and Christian names. “Your parents named you well.” She pulled him closer, and gave him a surprise quick kiss on the lips. Artemus smiled warmly at the young woman, and whispered in her ear, “I’m way too old for you. Somewhere out there is a young man who will make very happy. You just wait and see.” She smiled shyly back at him and said, “I know.”

Jim kissed Amelia on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you for taking good care of him. She whispered back, “As long as you promise to lend him to me on your next trip back, you’re welcome.” He stepped out the door and waited patiently for his partner to say his final good bye to Amelia.

“You make a girl feel alive, Mr Gordon,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

He grinned, “Well alive is better than the other.” He laughed but then his mood turned somber. “You never should have come after me. You could have been killed.” He brushed a stray hair from the corner of her face.

She replied cheekily, “And miss all that fun?” She moved closer to him so that their bodies touched. “If you didn’t already have a partner, I think I’d have to talk Colonial Richmond into letting me apply for the job.” She slid her arms around him and he pulled her into a tight embrace. Their kiss was passionate and could have gone on longer if it weren’t for a loud hurump coming from the door way. James West cleared his throat one more time and then turned to face them as they still held each other. With his most charming smile, he said, “Ready?”

They exchanged one more kiss, and the two men walked down the stairs to where John stood with their horses. As usual Black Jack pivoted excitedly ready for action, while Artie’s chestnut Mesa, stood quietly waiting.

The moon was full and the ride to the train was not far. The horses fell into a comfortable stride with Black Jack doing his usual prance and Mesa sensibly walking. It was a moment Jim had been waiting for ever since the mine explosion. "Artie, why did you do it?" he asked softly.

"The capers?” Artie answered becoming animated, “Well, Jim, I thought the pheasant would be bland, but in retrospect I should have just added a half cup more sherry, and a bit more pepper, maybe some lemon or just a dash of saffron. I’ll have to try that next time. You didn't like it?" he asked sincerely looking over at the other man.

Jim took a deep breath, and tried unsuccessfully to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Artie, I'm not talking about dinner. I'm talking about throwing yourself at Fredrickson in the mine shaft. You had no idea the gun was going to backfire. You should have been killed and would have except for dumb luck."

“Oh that." He answered flatly. He looked straight ahead while he gathered his words. Jim watched his friend but waited patiently knowing that he’d already waited this long, and a few more minutes were not a problem.

Artemus’s voice was serious and absolute when he finally spoke. “I didn't really know back then if I'd ever fully recover, and I couldn't face living the rest of my life as an invalid. So I decided if the last useful thing I did was to save a few lives, yours being one, it was worth it."

Jim stared at his partner waiting for him to say more, but he just continued looking straight ahead, the steady muffled clip clop of the horses filling the empty stillness.

Finally breaking the silence Jim said, “You know how valuable your knowledge is. You could have worked in Washington, in one of the labs, doing the stuff you love to do with chemicals and books, microscopes, and graphs. You wouldn't even get shot at any more."

“I know," came the soft reply. "And that's the funny part, Jim. I'd miss getting shot at, blown up, the fights. I'd miss the excitement. I’d miss my theater, playing different characters, on stage, with a very unforgiving audience by the way.” He paused again. “I’d miss working with you." He finally made eye contact. “I was a coward, Jim. I couldn't face having a …different life. Yeah, I could do good work in a lab, but not now, not that way.”

Jim quietly nodded. Of course. He’d be no different.

“Well… try hard not to do it again. I really don’t feel like breaking in a new partner ”

Artemus gave a jaunty salute, and finished it with a broad grin.

“Come on.” Jim said with a nod and they both kicked their horses to a lope.