The Night Of the Murderous Rains

[Artiespet]

THE NIGHT OF THE MURDEROUS RAINS

The rain came down in buckets, pouring over the earth like a sheet. He pulled the collar of his jacket tight around his neck, but it did no good, the rain was still running freely down his back. When he made it back to the train he promised himself he would pummel his partner for being clumsy and pulling almost all of the muscles in his back, leaving HIM to tackle these last few assignments on his own.

This last assignment had left him drained, both physically and emotionally. He hated violence, and he especially hated it when he had to act like a bloodthirsty killer. He could hardly wait to get home and take what he hoped would be a long uninterrupted soak in a hot bath. He shivered as he recalled the details of this last mission and hoped he never had to go through that again. At least I’ve already filed the report, he thought, so I won’t have to do that when I get back. And that partner of mine had better make me a nice hot meal. He rode on unable to repress the shivering, probably the onset of a nice cold thanks to Uncle Sam.

“You’re back early,” the man said as he entered the room from the front of the main car.

“You sound disappointed, James. Would you rather I leave and come back later?” Artie growled.

“Whoa, pal, I’m just surprised to see you that’s all. Colonel Richmond telegraphed yesterday and told me not to expect you until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well riding a lame horse in a downpour with nowhere to seek shelter could make even the best of men want to hurry things along a bit. Did you by any chance
cook anything for supper? I haven’t eaten in a while,” Artie replied as he shook the rain off of his poncho and hung it on the coat rack.

“As a matter of fact I did. It’s not much but you’re welcome to it. I ate lunch but by the looks of you, you haven’t eaten in a while. Are you sure you’re okay, pal?”

“I’m fine, Jim. Nothing a nice hot bath, a meal and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure,” Artie lied, hoping he would buy it.

“Well, you dig in, Artie, I’ll go get that hot bath ready for you,” Artie’s anger at his partner softened a little when he noticed Jim struggling to get up.

“Never mind the bath, Jim. I’m really too tired, I’d probably just slip under the water and drown, making Uncle Sam that much more pissed off at me. I’ll just sit here with you for a bit while you eat then I’m going to go to bed. Besides, I think the rain did a pretty good job of washing the trail dust off me,” Artie replied softening the tone in his increasingly tired and exhausted voice.

“Nonsense, Artie. You’re exhausted, you’re cold, wet, probably very hungry, and you look like hell. Like I said I ate earlier today, you eat,” Jim pointed him in the direction of the table and his plate of food.

“All right. James, my boy, if you insist,” Artie sat at the table and began eating.

Artie kept a careful eye on Jim, watching his movements. True he had seen very little of his partner in the past two months, but he could tell Jim’s back was still giving him grief. While the food wasn’t exactly five star the conversation was. He and Jim talked about Artie’s latest assignment in great detail. Artie told Jim about having to play three different characters, sometimes all in one day, just to get close to their intended target…Count Lorenzo. Artie thanked the heavens he was finally behind bars, him and his disgusting mob. Artie left out some of the more grisly details and this didn’t get past his watchful partner’s eye.

“Jeremy tells me you played Lightning McCoy again. That couldn’t have been very fun,” Jim commented dryly, hoping to draw his friend out.

“Yeah, Lightnin is always fun,” Artie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jim asked in that voice that Artie knew so well meant it was more than just a suggestion.

“Not really, but then I don’t think you’ll accept that for an answer will you?”

“Right as rain, Artie,” Jim flinched at his partners dirty look, “no pun intended.”

“Yeah, I know,” Artie sat there quietly contemplating his mashed potatoes and he pushed the food around the plate for a few strained minutes.

“Jim, I think it’s time for Lightnin to die.”

“Excuse me, Artie?” Jim asked, shocked.

“I don’t know, Jim, maybe it’s my tiredness talking. I’m just sick of playing bad guys. It makes my skin crawl. I have to do some really unsavory things…things I’d just as soon not talk about,” Artie shoved the plate away from him, Jim frowned at the small amount Artie had eaten, barely enough to keep a bird alive.

“I can’t say that I know what you go through when you play these characters, pal, but I can see that it takes a lot out of you to do it. More than Uncle Sam has a right to ask in my opinion. If you say Lightnin had to die then so be it,” Jim stated.

“If only it were that easy, Jim. Each and every character I play is in some small way a part of me, a part of who I am. Sure I can just not use that character again and be done with it, but this time…” Artie let his voice trail off which sent alarm bells sounding in every corner of Jim’s brain.

“This time what, pal?”

“This time a part of me became Lightnin.”

“You do that every time you have to wear a disguise.”

“Not like this. This time, I had to kill an innocent person, Jim. To complete my damned assignment I had to shoot and kill an innocent person and there was nothing I could do to stop it. But the terrible thing was I almost enjoyed it. I have so much pent up rage in me lately that I’m not sure I’m sorry I did it.” Artie spat. Jim didn’t like the look on his partner’s face.

“That’s it. I’m contacting Washington…”

“And tell them what? That I’m having a temper tantrum and don’t want to do my job anymore? No, Jim, like I said it’s probably just…”

“Exhaustion? Languor? Burnout? Artie, Washington has had you on the go day in and day out for the past two months. And lord only knows how many persona you’ve had to invent and reinvent just to complete your assignments while I have been sitting here doing nothing,” Jim said vehemently.

“I have a job to do and I do it simple as that. And you aren’t exactly sitting here doing nothing, Jim. Don’t think I don’t know about all the telegrams you’ve been sending out, trying to get help for me from other agents. And I do appreciate that by the way,” Artie fired back.

“They don’t know how much it takes out of you to do this. Every time you come back from an assignment I’ve seen it, Artie. I’ve seen the dark circles under your eyes, the pale skin and your sunken eyes, and don’t give me that look, most people don’t know when Artemus Gordon is hiding something under piles of stage makeup but I’m not your average someone,” Jim retorted.

“No, James, you’re not.”

“It burns me up that I have to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you go out and work yourself to death trying to complete my part of the assignment as well as your own.”

“Jim, I told you I don’t mind. You need time to heal. In a few more weeks…”

“Artie, in a few more days you’ll be so exhausted you won’t even know your own name,” Jim argued as he crossed to the telegraph.

As if on cue, the telegraph rattled, indicating an incoming message. Jim groaned and snatched the pad and pencil. Tapping out the quick acknowledgement, he began scribbling the newest message from Washington, his frown growing by the minute. When he had gotten the last of the message, he typed a reply telling them he would get back to them. He slammed the telegraph key back into its customary position and threw the pad and pencil onto the table.

“Do you really think that reply was wise, Jim?”

“I don’t care, Artie! You’re already well into a state of exhaustion. They have NO right to ask you to go right back out, especially not in this weather!” Artie was not sure when he had ever seen Jim this mad before.

“I know, Jim. But what are you going to do? Uncle Sam says jump and we ask how high,” Artie sighed.

“Not this time, pal. Not this time.”

“What can I do, Jim? I have to go to Atlanta,” Artie intoned, he pushed himself away from the not even half eaten dinner. When he rose he swayed for a second and steadied himself on the table.

“Artie, are you okay?” Jim rushed to his side.

“Yeah, I’m fine, like I said I haven’t had much sleep. Just let me get a good night’s sleep and we can start for Atlanta in the morning.”

“No, pal, I’m telling Washington we can’t take the assignment.”

“We? Don’t tell me you were planning on tagging along, James. I know the doctor hasn’t cleared you yet.”

“You let me worry about that, pal. Let’s get you to bed.
Otherwise, within a day or two there will be no need for this discussion, the doctor will have himself a new patient. And besides, we have an extra day since they don’t know you’re here.” Jim said as he watched Artie lean heavily against the doorframe waiting for him.

Jim called Orrin and told him to get the train moving toward Atlanta in the morning, and even though he was told to be there as quickly as possible, he told Orrin to take his time getting there no matter what he might hear from anyone else. He put his arm around Artie’s shoulders and was surprised at how thin his friend felt. Artie’s usual barrel chest felt almost like skin and bones and he walked with a prisoners shuffle not the usual robust stride he walked with. Jim’s concern intensified when he tried to make small talk with his partner but only got monosyllables in return.

Jim helped Artie undress and helped him get into bed. Glad for the close relationship they shared and the fact that helping the other undress didn’t embarrass them anymore. Jim wanted to send a wire declining the mission but he knew Artie wouldn’t approve, so Jim felt no guilt in taking his time getting them there. At least by the time they did arrive Artie will have gotten some very much needed sleep and Jim hoped his back was well enough to fool the doctor into letting him go on the mission with Artie.

ATLANTA, GEORGIA—

“Mr. West, I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me,” the doctor stated.

“Sir, you don’t understand…” Jim started to argue.

“Now just calm down, son, and let me finish. I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me about your back and against my better judgment I’m going to clear you for this assignment. I’ve been told it’s a simple guard some high and mighty muckity mucks for a few days type mission,” Jim’s smile broadened.

“Good, then I an get going?”

“Not quite,” the doctor said in a tone that made Jim freeze.

“That friend of yours out there, Mr. West, he shouldn’t be joining you. The only place that man belongs is in bed. He’s clearly exhausted and on the verge of collapse. Just what the hell is Washington thinking?”

“You’ve got me, doctor. I tried to tell them Artie’s too exhausted to remember his own name but the muckity mucks demanded his presence and you know Artie…”

“Yes, unfortunately I do. You two ought to have your heads examined. You put duty to your country and the President over everything including your own health and very lives,” the doctor growled.

“Not quite above everything, doctor. And I promise I will take all the harder jobs and give Artie every chance to get some sleep. I’m worried about him too.”

“I know you are, son, I know you are. I am going to put in a word about him when I send this report to the President…thank goodness your reports are for his eyes only. The language I plan on using he’s used to.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Jim queried.

“Oops, I guess I wasn’t supposed to let that slip. Oh well, that cat might as well come all the way out of the bag. For the past year or so whenever one of you two is seen for anything more important than a hangnail the President has demanded a detailed report be sent to him marked for his eyes only. He seems to have taken quite an interest in you two,” the doctor commented.


“Mostly in Artie, doctor, but I happen to think he’s worth grabbing the attention of someone like President Grant,” Jim said his voice swelling with pride in his partner.

“Me too, son, me too. Now go out there and put that man to bed and if you let him out of bed before noon tomorrow President Grant will have to look for two new sons,” the doctor shoved Jim toward the door, “Take good care of him, James.”

“I will, doctor, you have my word on that,” Jim replied as he exited the office.

Jim looked in the waiting room but Artemus wasn’t there. The cute brunette nurse informed him his partner had gotten tired of waiting for him and left word he would wait for him in the saloon next door. Jim thanked her and left, hoping to make it back in time to ask her to dinner tomorrow evening. He entered the bar and glanced around. As it was just past midday and the place wasn’t very full just a few regulars seated here and there. Jim’s eye scanned the saloon until he found the figure he was seeking. He approached the table and quietly sat down.

Artie had bought two beers and had apparently not even taken a sip out of his. Jim pulled the hat up from the bowed head. He really didn’t want to wake him but a saloon was hardly the place to take a nap. He gently shook his friend and was dismayed to see Artie’s bloodshot eyes staring back at him.

“How’d it go, Jim?” Artie drawled, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Fine, Artie, just fine. He cleared me to work this mission on one condition.”

“Do I want to ask what that condition is?” Artie asked flatly.

“Sure you do, pal. It involves you.”

“Me? What do I have to do play nursemaid to you while we play babysitter to some damn stupid muckity mucks?” Artie groaned.

“Nope, Artie,” Jim grinned broadly, “I get to tag along on this assignment as long as I take care of you. I have to make sure you get lots of food, sleep and don’t over work yourself.”

“Huh? What kind of condition is that? That sounds like a prescription for me not you.”

“In a way it is, pal. Doc took one look at you out in the waiting room and he went ballistic. He wanted you admitted to the nearest hospital, not going on a mission.”

[Artiespet]

“So that’s what the shouting was all about. I thought maybe you had been a naughty boy while I was away,” Artie laughed.

“Nope I made you a promise, pal and I kept it,” Jim’s expression turned serious.

“Artie, were you aware that President Grant has been keeping tabs on us for the last year or so?” Jim asked not sure what kind of reaction he would get.

“He what?” Artie lowered his voice so he wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“Yeah, it floored me too. The doctor told me he was going to include a harsh statement for him regarding you in his report. It seems that if either of us gets anything more serious than an hangnail he wants to hear about it.”

“We don’t need the President of the United States babysitting us. When we get back to the train I’m going to send him a telegram,” Artie complained.

“Wrong, pal. When we get back to the train I’m going to keep my promise to the doctor. You are going to eat a fine lunch I ordered packed up to go from your favorite restaurant and then you are going to get some sleep. The doctor said he would hunt me down and shoot me himself if I let you out of bed before noon tomorrow,” Jim grinned.

“Noon tomorrow? What is he, nuts? We have to meet Colonel Richmond at 7am and deal with the idiots at the State Department by 9 am.”

“Nope, I got it pushed back. The Colonel will deal with the muckity mucks until we get there.”

“How on earth did you manage that, Jim?” Artie wanted to know.

“Simple, I told him it was part of the doctors orders,” Jim said with a smile.

“James, you lied to the Colonel, tsk tsk tsk,” Artie laughed.

“Not really, Artie I just stretched the truth a little. Let’s get back to the train so you can eat and get some sleep.”

They rode to the far side of town and Jim left Artie watching the horses while he went in after the food. He came back a few minutes later, a basket in one hand a bottle of Artie’s favorite port in the other. He hooked the basket over his saddle horn and stuffed the port in his saddlebag. He noticed Artie gripping his saddle horn like it was a lifesaver thrown to a drowning man.

“Here, pal. Give me your reins. You’re so tired you’re liable to steer your horse to Florida instead of the train. I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay at the train and sleep,” without listening to Artie’s mumbled protests, Jim grabbed the reigns and pulled Artie’s horse along.

“You’d never have gone to your appointment. You would have come back and said he cleared you even if he had insisted on a hospital stay,” Artie replied.

“Yep, same as you, pal.”

By the time they reached the train, Jim was sure Artie had slept the last few minutes. He lowered the ramp and led the horses into the stable car. He gently shook his friend to wake him and guided him to a bale of hay in the corner and sat him down while he tended to the horses. His back was on fire but Jim refused to let the groans escape for fear Artie would hear them and demand to help him. He quickly curried the animals and fed them. Then he grabbed the food and gently shook his partner. Artie didn’t stir so Jim shook him again this time harder.

“Hey, pal, rise and shine,” Jim was not prepared for the response.

“Get away from me, Damnit!” Artie shouted and came up swinging.

Jim ducked and felt his back protest as he tried to move too quickly. Artie snapped his eyes into focus and made a grab for Jim to keep him from falling backward in to the stall.

“Sorry, Jim, I must have been dreaming.”

“No problem, pal. You need the sleep. I think we’ll just have a picnic in your room that way you won’t have far to go to find your bed.”

They walked to Artie’s room, Jim taking up the rear so he could keep an eye on his friend. He helped Artie remove his boots and settle on the bed before he pulled out the basket of food and spread it out on the bed. Artie took in the smells and smiled, maybe some food would help take the edge off his exhaustion. They ate in quiet, Jim keeping a watchful eye on Artie, making sure he was actually eating and not just pushing the food around his plate. Artie had eaten about half of his meal when he excused himself to use the facilities. Jim inspected his plate while he was gone, shaking his head at how little he was eating.

When Artemus returned and announced he wasn’t hungry any more, Jim demanded that he take the doctors advice and get some sleep. He assured his friend he would be in the main car getting things ready for their newest assignment. He had packed up the food and turned around to ask if Artie wanted him to leave anything for him to snack on but he found his partner sound asleep, snoring softly.

“You just sleep, pal. I’ll take care of things now,” Jim said softly.

Artemus stirred and brought his eyes into focus. He felt somewhat rested although another eight or ten hours of sleep did sound good to him. Artie sat up and grasped his head; he discovered he had developed a whopper of a headache. He went to his sideboard to mix a headache powder with some water when his eyes took in the clock on the sideboard.

Artemus did a double take and his jaw dropped. The clock read three o’clock. That can’t be right, Artie thought, I know that it’s light out and that means it must be daytime but…we were supposed to meet with Colonel Richmond at noon! Artie put the headache powder away, drained the glass and went in search of his partner.

He found him sitting at the table in the main car, papers and programs and agendas spread out all over the table and some spilling onto the floor he was making notes on a pad. Jim looked up when his partner entered the car and took in his appearance. Artie looked like hell even though he had gotten almost twenty-four straight hours of sleep. Jim wished he could complete this assignment alone but knew that was out of the question. He made a mental note to send a wire to the doctor later and tell him to strongly suggest that Artemus get a solid week or two of sleep in before giving him any more missions.

“James, is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?” Artie asked snidely.

“Such as?” Jim feigned innocence.

“Drop the innocent routine, buddy boy, it doesn’t suit you. You know damn well what I’m talking about. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. WE were supposed to meet with Colonel Richmond and those State Department agents at noon. Why wasn’t I invited to your little party?” Artie demanded.

“Calm down, pal. This was just the cursory meeting. I got their agenda and list of things they’d like to do while they’re in town and I’m working on it. No harm done. Besides to tell you the truth it looks like I should have given you a sedative or something, you still look like hell, partner.”

“I’m sorry, Jim, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, it’s just that…”

“I know, Artie. Why don’t you go grab something to eat from the kitchen and we can go over this stuff and I’ll fill you in on all the oh so boring things you missed.”

“I’ll get something to eat later, I seem to have acquired a small headache and I’m not very hungry right now. How long until we’re expected in town to begin our babysitting?” Artie asked not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Not until seven. The delegates will arrive at the hotel on the stage. We’ll meet them there. I guess we have to get them settled and then take them to dinner.”

“Oh joy, dinner with foreign delegates. I suppose they will want something silly like a hot dog,” Artie griped.

“A what dog, Artie? Are you sure you’re ok?” Jim asked staring at him.

“Yes, I’m fine. You really should read the trade journals more often, Jim. A guy named Charles Feltman is supposedly working on something called a hot dog. It’s some kind of meat thing you put in bread and eat. He’s still working the kinks out of it.”

“Oh, I see,” Jim replied, “well, whatever they want we are supposed to see to it that they get it, within reason,” Jim stated.

“Within reason, of course. Who’s reason…theirs or ours?” Artie asked no one in particular, Jim chuckled.

They spent the next two hours going over all the documents Jim had brought back and thought they had a pretty well rounded schedule planned, with very few of the items on the agenda taking them into dangerous territory fun wise. They only had to put up with these people for a week then Jim planned to get Artie some well deserved time off if he had to shoot him to do it. Jim looked at the mantel clock and saw that it was nearly time for them to head into town. He had suggested that they eat first but Artie vetoed the idea saying they didn’t have enough time. The furrow in Jim’s brow deepened.

They arrived at the hotel with half an hour to spare. Jim insisted they go to the hotel restaurant and that Artie eat something. Artie ordered a steak and potato but mostly pushed it around his plate. Jim coaxed him into eating about half of the meal when they heard the stage pull up. Jim and Artie stood patiently by waiting for their passengers to disembark.
Finally, after the luggage had been tossed down from the top, the group climbed down from the stage and looked around. Jim was mildly surprised; Artie just stared ahead. The group consisted of three men, two of them wearing business suits and the third dressed like a garish looking clown trying to imitate a cowboy. Jim suppressed a grin and glanced at Artie, who was gathering up the luggage.

They made the obligatory introductions, and Jim helped Artemus gather the last of the luggage and they headed into the hotel. Jim got the keys and they went up to the rooms, Jim grabbing most of the luggage. The dignitaries wanted to change before supper and told James and Artemus they would meet them in the restaurant. Jim welcomed any chance to be free of them and readily agreed. He drug Artie down the stairs and into the restaurant.

“They are going to be a while, Artie, why don’t you order another dinner. You didn’t get to eat all of the last one,” Jim tried.

“Jim, I’m not hungry, I ate less than an hour ago. Back off, the Mother Hen routine is getting tiresome,” Artie snapped.

“Sorry, pal, I’m just worried about you is all.”

“Well, don’t, I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” Jim wondered where the anger was coming from and made a mental note to talk to the doctor.

“All right, if that’s the way you want it,” Jim deadpanned.

“Aww come on, Jim. We only have to get through the next five days then this will be over. I can make it don’t worry about me.”

“Well, partner that’s what partners do. They worry about each other and don’t tell me you weren’t the least bit worried about me over the past eight weeks.”

“Touché, James, point taken.”

“And Artie, I’m not going to let you back out on your promise to me. No missions for at least two weeks after this,” Jim began only to be interrupted by their charges.

“I’d love to hear about some of you gentlemen’s missions,” the one called Donovan remarked, “I bet you have some tales to tell.”

“Jim’s the tale spinner, I’m just here as eye candy,” Artemus snapped.

“What’s his problem?” he asked.

“Oh, Artie? He didn’t get his beauty sleep.”

“Shut up, Jim,” Artie warned.

“You’ll have to excuse my partner, gentlemen. He’s just finished eight rather long weeks worth of assignments with no break longer than half a day and he’s more than a little tired,” Jim explained.

“There’s no need to explain my actions, Jim. I’m perfectly capable of explaining myself if I feel there is a need,” Artemus glared at his friend.

“Is that true, Mr. Gordon?” Donovan asked. Artie merely nodded as he stared down into his cup of coffee.

“Mr. West, pardon me if I am out of line, but what was your President thinking sending Mr. Gordon to baby sit us when he’s this exhausted?” Donovan seemed genuinely upset, Artie noted.

“No, Mr. Donovan, you are not out of line. I asked myself that same question. It seems your government told my government they wanted our top agents for this assignment so here we are,” Jim answered, disgruntled.

“Well, I for one will feel much safer knowing that America’s top agents are with me,” the one called Matthews remarked, Donovan shot him a look and Jim had to hide his grin.

“Mike, you’d let God himself risk life and limb to protect your sorry backside.”

“Now, Don, don’t get upset. There’s no need, after all, we are in a foreign country and we don’t know the customs. I just feel safer knowing we have two top notch men to show us around.”

“Whatever,” Donovan sniped.

Jim noted that Artie was on his sixth cup of coffee in the past hour and knew the caffeine; while it would keep him awake would be getting to him soon. Jim thought that his partner’s excessive coffee drinking might explain his surly mood. He suggested they adjourn for the night and the men get some sleep. Jim and Artie followed them up to their rooms and made sure they were safely inside with their doors locked before retiring to their own room. Jim had made sure he had only reserved one room with a king size bed so he could keep an eye on Artie. This did not get past his exhausted friend.

“Still playing nursemaid, eh James?”

“Sorry Artie, sue me. I told the doctor I would take care of you and I intend to. You can yell, scream, shout do whatever you want it won’t change anything,” Jim dared him to argue.

“Nah, for once I think I actually don’t mind,” Artie replied as he dressed for bed, “what do you make of our charges?” he said trying to change the subject.

“Matthews is a twit. Ketchum is a pompous ass…” Jim grunted.

“And Donovan?”

“I’m not sure about him, yet. He seems too…well, normal to be hanging out with these other two bozos.”

“I agree, I think I might like Donovan,” Artie yawned.

“He seemed awful interested in you, Artie,” Jim teased.

“It’s my natural charm and charisma, James my boy,” Artie yawned again.

“Well, right now I’d say we put that charm and charisma to bed. Breakfast comes pretty early,” Jim put the light out and waited.

He was rewarded rather quickly with the sounds of Artie’s shallow if somewhat uneven breathing. Damnit, I think he’s coming down with something, Jim thought, I’ll have to keep an eye on him. Jim drifted off to a restless sleep, worry about his partner permeating his sleep.

The next morning came much earlier than Jim would have liked, Donovan pounding on their door. Jim rose and opened the door to let him in. Donovan took in Artie’s disheveled look and glanced at Jim, who merely shrugged his shoulders. Donovan, it appeared was to be the spokesman for the group. The others had already gone down stairs for breakfast, instantly alerting Jim and eliciting a groan from Artie.

“What do they think they’re doing? You aren’t to go anywhere without us; and that includes the restaurant,” Jim said angrily.

“I tried to tell them that but they wouldn’t listen. So I came straight here to get you, Mr. West. I had hoped to let Mr. Gordon sleep. I don’t see the need for two chaperones.”

“Nonsense,” Artemus grumped, “the President promised you two baby sitters and you’ll get two baby sitters.”

“Come on, Artie, lighten up,” Jim pleaded. Oh man this was going to be one very long week.

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry Jim,” Artie said as he pulled on his vest then grabbed his fringed riding jacket and opened the door, “you gentlemen coming or do I get to have the pleasure of frick and frack’s company all to myself?” he smiled trying to make up for his earlier mood.

Jim bowed to Donovan and allowed him and Artemus to exit the room before him. Artie gave Jim the look, telling him he knew what he was up to and he didn’t appreciate being baby sat as well. They joined Matthews and Ketchum in the restaurant and ordered their meals. Jim noticed Donovan keeping a watchful eye on Artie and it made him even more curious about this man.

Their meals finished, Jim noting that again Artie only ate about half, Jim suggested they get an early start on their days plans. Jim had wanted to plan a simple day, hoping Artie could draw the light duty. Ketchum wanted to tour the entire town in one day; Matthews wanted to go hunting so Jim was extremely grateful when Donovan suggested they go to some of the town’s more demure shops.

Donovan reminded the men they had lists as long as their arms of things their wives wanted them to bring back and that if they got everything today that would leave the rest of their trip for other adventures. They readily agreed and Jim shot him an appreciative look. Donovan winked and pulled Artie aside and whispered something to him that made Artie laugh. Jim just shook his head as they headed out of the hotel.

[Artiespet]

After hitting almost every shop in the area, the men decided to stop in at a saloon for a cold beer to wash away the heat of the day. Jim scrutinized his partner when he only ordered coffee, but said nothing. Donovan also only ordered coffee, explaining that alcohol didn’t seem to agree with him. Artie and Donovan moved off to their own table, which didn’t seem to bother Matthews and Ketchum. Jim was glad Artie had something to distract him and hoped he would be able to spend more time with Donovan.

Finally, it was almost suppertime and the men announced they had finally gotten the last of the items they needed. Jim suggested they take their treasures and head back to the hotel for an early dinner and then get some rest, as they would be going hunting in the morning. Artie’s eye lit up at the prospect of sleep. He didn’t care if he never ate again he was just dying to drop into a deep sleep.

They arrived at the hotel and deposited their items in their rooms. Jim had made Artie stay downstairs and get them tables in the restaurant. Again, Artie and Donovan took the separate table and seemed to be engrossed in stimulating conversation. Jim cringed inwardly at the thought of having to up with these stuffed shirts and kept reminding himself it was only a few days.

After the evening meal, Jim couldn’t gage how much Artie had eaten, he had strategically placed his napkin over his plate when he finished, the men requested that they be allowed to go out and experience the nightlife Atlanta had to offer. Donovan caught Jim’s eye and he pointed to Artemus and shook his head no. Jim suggested that he be the one to show them the best nightspots and Artemus would stay behind and protect their belongings.

“That sounds like a great idea, Jim,” Donovan said, “Artemus, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, sure, I’d like to get to bed early anyway. Nightlife is Jim’s department anyway, he probably knows where every single girl lives between here and Los Angeles,” Artie joked.

“Not all of them, Artie, there has to be one or two young ladies I haven’t met yet. I’d be terribly disappointed otherwise,” Jim replied with a grin.

Jim, Matthews, Ketchum and Donovan departed for the nightclub area and Artie gratefully went upstairs and to his room. He threw his jacket onto a chair and collapsed on the bed. God, he was tired, but something about Donovan kept nagging at his mind. He lay there contemplating their charge when he heard a noise in the next room. Knowing they were all out with Jim, Artie removed his gun from the holster hanging on the bedpost and quietly crept out into the hallway. Ketchum’s door was slightly ajar.

Artie crept over to the door and cocked his pistol. He jumped into the door, slamming it open and scaring the intruder. The man dropped the items he had taken and reached for his gun. Artie didn’t intend on letting him get it out. He fired and the man went down and didn’t get up. Artie checked for a pulse and found none. He shook his head as a crowd gathered around the door. Damn, the killing just never stops, Artie sighed. The sheriff entered the room and wanted to know what happened. Artie filled him in and the sheriff told him he would have to come down to the jailhouse to file a report. Artie sighed, nodded his head and went to get his fringed jacket. Sleep would have to wait.

Three hours later Artie had finally answered all of the sheriff’s questions to his satisfaction and the proper reports had been filed and he was allowed to leave. He literally dragged himself down the street to the hotel, hoping he would get there and in bed before Jim got back. He had just entered their room and removed his jacket for the second time that night when the door opened and Jim entered.

“Artie?” he questioned, “You going someplace?”

“Just got back. I thought you made that doctor a promise, Jim. You failed miserably, pal,” Artie tried to sound lighthearted.

“What are you talking about?” the hairs were standing at attention on the back of Jim’s neck.

“Oh nothing,” Artie said nonchalantly.

“Artie!”

“You weren’t here to baby sit me like you were supposed to so I just made my own excitement.”

“Artemus…”

“No, Jim, it’s okay, no big deal…” Artie replied with an overly dramatic wave of his hand.
“Artemus Gordon!”

“Okay, Okay, you don’t have to yell. While you were out saloon hopping, someone decided to pay a visit to our lovely friend Ketchum’s room.”

“What? Was anyone hurt?” Jim looked at his friend.

“I’m fine, dad. The intruder, whoever he was isn’t doing so great.”

“Where is he, I’d like to question him.”

“You can’t…” Artie let his sentence trail off.

“Can’t? Why not? Artie, what is it?” Jim could see the look on his face and it worried him.

“I had to shoot him,” Artie whispered.

“What? I didn’t catch that, pal.”

“I did it again, Jim. I had to shoot him. He left me no choice. I threw open the door and confronted him and he pulled a gun…I had no choice but to shoot…I killed him. I killed an innocent person again,” Artie almost cried.

“Artie, he hardly sounds innocent if he was robbing someone’s room.”

“Yeah, that’s what the witnesses told the sheriff. I just got back from filing the reports. Jim, do you know that they file more reports than we do? Heck, I even think I just filed a report with the sheriff requesting to file a report about shooting an armed intruder!” Jim thought Artie looked like her were going to collapse so he pushed him down onto the bed. He pulled Artie’s boots off and pulled the blankets up over him.

“You just go to sleep, pal. I’m revising the plans a little. Tomorrow I will take Matthews and Ketchum hunting and you will take Donovan on a tour of the museum.”

“Jim, I won’t be molly coddled. If the agenda calls for hunting then I’ll get up and go hunting,” Artie snapped.

“No it’s not that, Artie. Donovan wants a break from them and they don’t want to check out some stuffy old museum they want to go shoot at something.”

“Why do I get the hint that you’re not telling me something?” Artie wondered.

“It’s nothing…”

“James…”

“Really, pal, it’s nothing. Just that Donovan and Matthews got into it at one of the saloons we went to. I get the idea Donovan doesn’t want to be on this little trip any more than Matthews and Ketchum want him here.”

“I would like to know how Donovan got mixed up with those two. They make quite an odd trio,” Artie mused, Jim noted the tired expression.

“Me too. But right now the only thing I’d like to know is why you are still up. Get to sleep, mister!” Jim tried to sound official.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Artie turned over and waited until he felt Jim slide into the bed then turned the lamp down.

Within seconds, Artie was sleeping and Jim lay there wondering just who Donovan really was what he was doing here. He felt that Donovan had some sort of ulterior motive and he was bound and determined to find out what it was. Jim turned onto his side, his back still ached if he slept on it all night and he wanted to keep an eye on his partner anyway. He watched the steady rise and fall of his shoulder as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Artie woke and found only a note on the pillow beside him. ]i\Morning, pal. Donovan said not to wake you. He’d wait for you downstairs in the restaurant. He’s in no hurry. Will be back later, hopefully with both men still alive, Jim.[/i] Artie read the note and hook his head, if there were two men to ill-fitted to hunting it was Matthews and Ketchum. He didn’t envy Jim his day and with Jim’s back Artie was sure the day would be excruciating for him. Artie dressed and hurried downstairs to find Donovan. He entered the restaurant just as a man he thought he recognized, left Donovan’s table.

“Who was that?” Artie asked as he joined him.

“Just another traveler. We met last night, we were comparing notes on places to see,” Donovan replied.

“Oh, I thought for a minute there I knew him, I guess not,” Artie said as he sat down.

“Mr. Gordon, care to order breakfast? I don’t like to eat alone so I waited for you and I’m starving,” Donovan said, trying to make conversation.

“Mr. Donovan…” Artie began.

“Please, call me Don, everyone does.”

“Fine, whatever. Listen DON, I don’t know what you’re up to but you can just can the act. I don’t need a baby sitter, I can take care of myself,” Artie stated, he just wanted to broach the subject of who Donovan really was head on and be done with it.

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Gordon, I’m merely concerned with your well being…”

“My well being? You don’t know me from Adam, I find that very had to believe,” Artemus folded his arms across his chest and glared. Suddenly, a thought came to him.

“He sent you here, didn’t he?” Artemus demanded to know.
“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. If I can see through your guise what makes you think James won’t?”

“Mr. Gordon, if I level with you can you promise me you won’t tell anyone, including Mr. West?”

“I will make no such promise. If I think Jim has a right or a need to know, I’ll have to tell him,” Artie didn’t like where this seemed to be headed.

“Fair enough, Mr. Gordon. My name really is Hank Donovan. But I’m not from Iceland, I’m from Iowa.”

“Iowa? But…you’re a plant!” Artie said disgustedly.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think. I’ve been in place for about a year now. Far longer than this missions lifespan.”

“Oh then by all means, enlighten me,” Artie said.

“Mr. Gordon, I was sent here by the Secret Service. One of the gentlemen you are babysitting is a murderer and I was sent to infiltrate them and discover who that murder is.”

“Why didn’t they just tell us. Jim and I could have…”

“Could have blown over a year’s worth of hard work.”

“So we were brought in as part of your cover. With Jim and I providing the babysitting you would be free to investigate and find out which one was the guilty party.”

“Right first time, Mr. Gordon, no wonder the President thinks so highly of you.”

“I don’t like being used,” Artie stated flatly.

“And I really hate being involved in this type of mission when…”Artie let his sentence trail off.

“Mr. Gordon, you’ve got to believe me. I had no idea they were sending you and Mr. West. When Mr. West told me of your condition I tried to delay the mission but the State Department wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Artie mused.

“I know how you feel, Mr. Gordon. I’ve been dealing with these two for the past year or so. Every time I think I have figured out which one is my man the other one does something to make me suspect him.”

“Suspect them of what, it’s not just murder. The State Department would hardly send an operative in on a simple murder case, let alone waste months setting him up,” Artie sat pensively for a few minutes, deep in thought.

“It has something to do with those dead Senators, doesn’t it?” Artie asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, Mr. Gordon.”

“One of these two men is either responsible for all those murders in the past year or they know who is. And who would suspect foreign dignitaries. They must have thought that if they could take them out they could replace them with men of their choosing and thus gain access to much more foreign aid and other perks.” Artie said.

“Mr. Gordon, you are indeed a many of many talents. It took our department 6 months to get as far as you have in 6 minutes.”

“I’m just gifted, I guess,” Artie smiled.

“But you do realize that if things heat up I’ll have to tell Jim.”

“Yes, I do, but I trust your judgment. You’ll do what you think is best.”

“Well, now that show and tell is over, what do you say we go play tourist?” Artie started to push away from the table.

“Not so fast, Artemus…”

“What, did I miss something?”

“I was also given a last minute addition to this assignment by President Grant himself,” Artie sank back down.

“Okay what does the Old Man want?”

“He ordered me to keep an eye on you. And my eye says we didn’t eat yet, and my stomach says it wants to eat now,” Donovan smiled as he handed Artie a menu.

“Oh great two Mother Hens,” Artie grumped, Donovan just laughed.

“Don’t worry, Artemus, I’ve seen James’ Mother Hen routine, I’ll be as discrete as possible. But when we are around the others I think I had better address you two as MR.”

“Finally someone with some sense,” Artie laughed.

[Artiespet]

SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE ATLANTA—

“Mr. West, when do you think we’ll see something?” Matthews asked for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“You have to have patience, Mr. Matthews, and you have to be quiet,” yeah right, like that will ever happen,

They sat on their haunches waiting for some poor animal to come into their sights. The fire in Jim’s back intensified with each passing moment. He hoped they got something soon. Listening to the strange whispered conversation between these two was driving him up a proverbial wall.

Matthews crawled around to the far right side of Jim. He motioned that he saw movement. Jim nodded and turned to Ketchum. Ketchum, Jim had discovered, should never been allowed to handle sharp objects let a lone a lethal weapon like a rifle. He watched Ketchum scan the area and decided he was a man who couldn’t be trusted. He still couldn’t make up his mind about Matthews. He obviously had more experience with firearms than he was letting on. Jim had the feeling that there was more to this mission than was meeting the eye. He hoped Artie was faring better with Donovan.

He was jolted back to reality when a shot rang out followed by a scream. Jim snapped his head in Matthews’ direction to see him clutching his bloody hand. Jim rose from his crouch and nearly fell over, the pain in his back was blinding. He ran over to Matthews and looked at his hand. It didn’t seem to be too serious, luckily the bullet only grazed the fleshy outside part of his hand. Jim wrapped a handkerchief around the wound and turned sharply when Ketchum approached.

“Watch what you’re doing,” Jim yelled as he yanked the rifle away from him, “Matthews could have been killed.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. West. I’m really sorry, Mike.”

“Not much damage done this time,” Matthews replied, “Just next time ask questions first and shoot later.”

“Mr. Matthews, that doesn’t look like it will need stitches so I’ll leave the choice up to you whether or not we head back to town.”

“No, I’ll be fine, I really want to stay.”

Three hours later the men announced they were ready to leave. They had each shot a rabbit and Matthews had bagged a seven-point buck. Jim showed them how to dress them and hang them from their saddles. Jim tried to work the kinks out of his back as they slowly made their way back to the hotel.

HOTEL—

Artie and Donovan returned to the hotel just before suppertime. Artie had showed Donovan the museum, it didn’t matter that they didn’t go in. They just looked at it as they rode by. Donovan went to check out a couple of leads that, unfortunately, lead them nowhere but to a sore backside. Artie gratefully sank into a chair in the lobby. Both men decided they didn’t need to wait upstairs for the men. Artie idly picked up a newspaper and began to leaf through it. Several pages into it, he sat up straight, his eyes wide.

“Don, look at this!” He said excitedly as he handed him the paper. Donovan quickly scanned it.

“Artemus this could really break this case wide open. How am I going to look into this without drawing suspicion?” He asked.

“Simple, we just won’t be here when Jim gets back. Come on, let’s go,” Artie said as he rose and headed for the door.

“Clerk, when Mr. West gets back if we have not returned tell him to eat with out us,” the clerk nodded to Artie and Donovan’s quickly exiting backs.

Jim had the bellboy take the animal carcasses to have them prepared for the men to ship back home and he scanned the lobby for Artie and Donovan. Not finding them he took the men upstairs. He quickly changed his clothes and checked the room. It didn’t appear Artie had been there all day. His frown increasing, he patiently waited for Matthews and Ketchum before going downstairs.

“Oh, Mr. West,” the clerk called to him, “I have a message from Mr. Gordon. He said to tell you if he wasn’t back by the time you got here that you gentlemen were to eat supper without them.”

“Eat without them? Where did they go?”

“That I don’t know. Mr. Gordon was reading the paper then all of a sudden he and Mr. Donovan ran out of here like they were on fire.”

“Damnit, Artie,” Jim muttered under his breath as he grabbed the paper and they headed into the restaurant.

An hour later the men sat around the table drinking coffee. Jim wasn’t sure if he should be worried about his partner or angry with him. He flipped through, read and reread the paper numerous times and he could find nothing that might interest Artie enough to piss Jim off by missing a meal. He was brought back to reality when Matthews cleared his throat.

“Sorry, gentlemen, I’m a bit distracted,” Jim replied.

“That’s all right, Mr. West. I’m a bit worried about Donovan myself,” Ketchum said watching the door.

“ARTIE,” Jim bit off his reply, “and Donovan probably just got absorbed in staring at some art or something and lost track of the time. I’m sure they’ll be along soon,” Jim hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

“Well, if you have no objections, Mr. West, I’d like to call it a night. I have a few letters to write before my hand becomes a nuisance, and it’s been a rather long day,” Matthews said.

“If Mr. Ketchum is agreeable that would be fine with me,” Jim said resisting the urge to massage his aching back.

“Yes, I have some letters I need to write as well,” Ketchum said, “What time do you think we will be meeting for breakfast?”

“I don’t think it really matters. Tomorrow’s agenda is a light one. I saw on your list that you wanted to attend a session of the State Legislature, while you’re here so I thought we could do that tomorrow. Today’s hunting was pretty tiring and I thought you could use a break.”

“Why thank you, Mr. West, we’d appreciate that wouldn’t we, Matthews?”

“Oh yes, that’s a great idea. I’d love to get a closer look at how your government works.”
Matthews and Ketchum exchanged excited glances. Jim followed them up the stairs and waited until he heard their doors lock.

As he lowered himself onto the bed with a groan, he had even more questions and not one single answer. For starters, where were Artie and Donovan? They had finished their agenda for the day because they had been back at the hotel at some point. That worried Jim, it wasn’t like Artie to just take off like that without leaving Jim some kind of note. And, Donovan, Jim really didn’t know what to make of him. Artie seemed to think he was okay and that was good enough for him. He would just have to wait until Artie returned to find some answers. And he had better have eaten today or I’ll skin him alive, Jim thought.

It was quite some time later when Jim heard Artie turning the key in the lock. Jim kept his hat pulled over his eyes, feigning sleep. He let Artie enter the room and he heard his remove his jacket. He felt his partner sit heavily down onto the bed and heard him struggle to get his boots off. Jim waited until Artie went over to the sideboard where the washbasin was to speak.

“You’re out late, pal,” Jim stated flatly.

“What? Oh, hi Jim. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, Artie. Mind telling me what kept you?”

“Oh Don and I saw something in the newspaper that caught our eye so we went and checked it out,” Artie said hoping Jim would let it drop.

“Really, what was it? I must have read the paper five times and I didn’t see anything interesting enough to warrant you missing dinner. I assume you at least ate the other two meals?” Jim questioned him with a glare, Artie carefully kept his back to his partner.

“Yeah, Jim, I ate today,” Artie said cryptically.

“Artie…” Jim growled.

“Yes, Jim,” Artie said as he rinsed his face in the basin.

“Artemus Gordon, I ought to just shoot you here and now. Stop playing games and just answer my question!” Jim shouted.

“All right, all right, yes I did eat today. I ate a big breakfast with Don, we got busy and we both skipped out on lunch and dinner. Jim now is really not the time for this. I’m tired,” Artie stated gruffly.

“Now is exactly the time for this, Artie. I want to know what you felt was so damned important that you skipped meals and put a lot of miles on horseback for,” Jim demanded.

“Jim, let it go, please,” Artie pleaded.

“Let it go, Artie, you’re killing yourself and you just tell me to let it go? You’re my partner, my friend, hell my brother, and if you’re into something heavy I need to know about it,” Jim said almost pleadingly.

“Jim…I can’t, just drop it, please,” Artie couldn’t even look at him. Whatever it was Jim noted that it was killing Artie not to tell him.

Just as Jim was going to cross the room to confront his partner, there was a soft knock on the door. Artie reached out opened it. Jim noticed the tension on Artie’s face as the straightened. Jim’s anger flared even higher. When he was that it was Donovan his interest peaked.

“Come in, Don, have a seat,” Jim gestured to a chair. Donovan sat and contemplated his hands for several long moments.

“Something we can do for you, Mr. Donovan?” Jim asked roughly.

“No, but I think there’s something I can do for you,” Donovan looked at Artie.

“Artie, is there something you’d like to tell me?” Jim was about to snap.

“Mr. West, don’t blame Artemus. I forced him to keep my secret. But I heard your argument across the hall and I had to intervene.”

“Artie, why don’t you lie down before you fall down. Mr. Donovan has some explaining to do and something tells me this might take a while,” Jim sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

Artemus peeled off his shirt and lay back on the pillows, not envying Donovan in the least. He listened as Donovan reiterated what he had told Artemus. Jim’s facial expressions ranged from confusion to anger to concern and back to confusion. Jim turned to his partner to ask him a question and saw that Artie was passed out sitting up.

“Mr. West, please let him sleep. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have.”

“Okay, lets start with why. Why didn’t Washington feel the need to inform us you were a plant? Why couldn’t I have left Artie sleeping on the train this week?”

“Well, sir, they felt that if you knew going in to this mission that you wouldn’t act accordingly. We needed yours and Mr. Gordon’s actions to be as natural as possible.”

“Fine, I can understand that, I guess. But why did you choose Artie? Can’t you see he’s in no shape to be on this mission let alone a side mission?”

“I see that, Mr. West, but I really thought this was the best way to proceed with this mission. I hardly felt that he was in any shape to go hunting so I…” Donovan said.

“So you picked a fight with Matthews and Ketchum on purpose so Artie wouldn’t have to go hunting.” Jim’s expression softened.

“Yes, sir. It was all I could think of and when he confronted me I had no choice but to tell him. I had no idea he would take my mission and run like hell with it,” Donovan seemed almost apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it, Don. I appreciate what you did. Just next time don’t let him run off without eating, he’s barely eating enough to keep a bird alive as it is,” Jim commented as he glanced at his sleeping friend.

“I promise, Mr. West. I did get him to eat almost all of his breakfast. The rest of the day he kept putting me off and man was my stomach unhappy! Mr. West, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Manage Mr. Gordon. I tried every trick in the book and nothing worked.”

“It’s not easy. When all else fails I use the Partner Privilege,” Jim smiled.

“Partner Privilege? I don’t recall that ever being taught.”

“That’s because I made it up. Partner Privilege is when one of us is being extremely difficult or in some cases just plain stupid. It means they have to do what the other one says or the one gets to kick the other’s backside.”

“Wow, the academy should hear about this. It would come in handy.”

“It has it’s advantages, but you have to be careful, sometimes it can come back and bite you in the butt.”

They sat talking for a while, mostly about the Secret Service and the President. Donovan had heard stories about how close they were and seemed impressed when Jim confirmed it. He listened intently as Jim related some of his personal experiences with President Grant. Jim was beginning to like this young man and thought he showed a lot of promise. Jim suggested they get some sleep. As Donovan reached the door he turned back and grinned at Jim.

“Mr. West, I think I’m going to be sick in the morning and I won’t be able to make it to the morning session. If I feel up to it I’ll go to the afternoon session,” Donovan winked.

“Thank you, Don.”

The next morning dawned to more pouring rain as well as thunder and lightning. Jim was glad Artie wouldn’t have to be out in this mess. He left his friend a note and quietly stepped out. He didn’t like the lack of color on his face. Jim got the other delegates up and headed for the restaurant and made a show of knocking on Donovan’s door. He told Donovan he would have the kitchen send him up a meal after they left and Donovan suggested he get Artie one as well. Jim left the hotel feeling better that Artie was at least in the hands of a fellow agent.

[Artiespet]

Artie woke to the sound of thunder. Oh great, here we go again, he groaned. He forced his eyes to open and the smell of bacon assaulted him. He sat up, looked around and found Jim’s note. Artie, I didn’t wake you because today we are only going to watch the Legislative sessions. Don is in his room said he wasn’t feeling well. I had the kitchen send up a plate. Please, pal, eat if all. Don’t make me invoke Partner Privilege. If Don feels better by the afternoon session come join us otherwise why don’t you take the day off and stay in bed? Jim.

Artie laid the note down and lifted the lid on the tray. The food looked great. He ate until he was full, Jim would just have to understand when he couldn’t eat it all. Artie lay back down on the bed and was going over what they had discovered yesterday when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Artie said, thinking it must be someone from the kitchen to get the dishes. Donovan stuck his head inside.

“Mind some company?” he asked.

“Sure, come on in. You look pretty chipper for someone who’s not feeling well,” Artie glared at him.

“Aw, come on, Artemus. I only did what I thought I had to.”

“I thought I told you I didn’t need a babysitter,” Artie snapped.

“Now, hold on, Artemus. It’s definitely not what you think. James and I talked for a long time last night and we both felt it would be best if we stayed teamed up like we are. Matthews and Ketchum might be twits but they aren’t stupid. James felt that if he were to team up with me and we ditched them they might get suspicious. So far they seem to be buying my act. That and I would rather spend time with you than them.”

“If it weren’t for the logic in your statement I’d cold cock you. But I guess we could go do some more checking on those leads.”

“No need to, Mr. Gordon. I already did that this morning. I found some very interesting information.”

Donovan motioned to Artemus to stay on the bed as he pulled a chair up to the bed. He pulled a folder out and began spreading out newspaper clippings. They poured over their findings and Artemus made notes of people they might want to talk to, giving Donovan some lessons while they worked. They had been working for a long time when there was a knock at the door, startling them. Artie started to get up but Donovan waved him back, telling him he was too buried under all the papers. Donovan rose and opened the door, Artie, thinking quickly, covered the clippings with a map.

“I think this river here might some fairly adequate fishing, Don…” Artie was saying as Donovan let the bellboy in. The bellboy immediately went to the dishes and began clearing them.

“You looking at a map you ain’t gonna find the best fishin hole they is,” Artie looked at him.

“Care to share your information, son?” he asked.

“Sure thing, Mister,” The boy came over to the bed.

“This map ain’t got near to enough detail. But you see this here part? They’s actually a lake right about here…gots the best fishing in the state…” he said, “oh and I almost forgot,” he pulled a package out of his uniform and handed it to Artemus.

“Artemus opened the package and read the enclosed note. His expression hardened and he tossed the package onto the sideboard. Donovan looked at him questioningly.

“Leave it alone, Don,” Artie barked as the bellboy scooped up the tray and left.

“Shall we get back to the clippings?” Donovan asked.

“No, I want to catch up to Jim,” Artemus left no room for discussion as he rose and grabbed his jacket and headed out. Donovan looked at the package as he followed.

“Mr. Gordon, may I ask you what you saw in those clippings that I missed?”

“It’s something that you’ll get with experience, kid,” Artie said as he mounted his horse, “Why sit here reading about the senators when we can watch them in action. Could be we might see something they don’t print in the newspaper. If we’re lucky maybe we can figure out which one of the muckity mucks is the guilty party.”

They rode to the capital building in silence. Donovan was trying to figure out what Artemus was up to and how to get him to slow down. He seemed to be running full speed all day every day. If he kept this pace up Donovan was sure he would drop from overwork. I don’t know how he does it. Little or no sleep, even less food, and he is on the go constantly. But you gotta admire and respect that kind of dedication. Donovan wondered if he would ever be that dedicated.

They pulled up to the Capital building, tied off their horses and went in. Artemus led the way to the balcony area of the gallery for the senate chambers. Artemus quietly took a seat in a corner where he could get a view of the senate floor. He motioned to Donovan to take a seat. Artemus first scanned the gallery and then he turned his attention to the Senate floor. He scanned each and every Senator and their aides. Donovan scanned the gallery not quite sure what it was he was looking for. After about three quarters of an hour, Artemus nudged Donovan and pointed to a spot in the gallery where Jim and the men were sitting. Donovan looked and saw a page going to the row behind them.

They watched as he took something from either Matthews or Ketchum, unfortunately they couldn’t tell which one. Artie’s eyes followed him until he left the gallery and headed for the stairs. He watched the doorway below but it was a different page that emerged and took a note to a senator. Artie made a note of which senator the note was delivered to.

They watched this system for several minutes. Finally, Artie got up and circled the gallery. He slipped into a seat beside his partner.

“I think we are about to get some action, Jim,” he whispered.

“You mean all the note passing that’s been going on since we got here?”

“Yeah, for a second there I thought you were slipping,” Artie joked, “You stay here, I’m going to intercept the next little note and see if we can figure out what’s going on,” he moved to leave and Jim grabbed his arm.

“Do you think that’s wise, Artie?”

“Someone has to, Jim, and you’re busy babysitting. Besides, your style tends to draw too much attention, while my way is suave, sophisticated and quiet.”

“Be careful, pal. Taking Donovan with you?” Jim didn’t ask as much as he tried to make it sound like an order.

“No, dad, I’m not. We will make it look like he wants to leave, but we’re gonna split up. I’m going after the note and he’s going after that other page.”

“Artie, I don’t like the sound of this. Too much can go wrong. I should go with you.”

“What, and leave frick and frack up here alone. Ketchum would probably fall out of the balcony. You worry too much, James,” Artie slid out of his seat and left, Jim went back to surveying the surroundings.

Artie patiently stood in the hallway apparently engrossed in a pamphlet. A few minutes went by and a page appeared. He ducked into the gallery and when he returned he had a small slip of paper he was tucking into the palm of his glove. Artie followed him to the stairs. As he reached the mid level landing, Artie reached out and grabbed the page. He spun him around.

“Son, I need to get a look at that paper for just a second. The man said he needs to make sure he wrote it correctly,” Artie said trying to sound as if he had run to catch him.

“Sir, I can’t do that…”

“The gentlemen said he would be very angry if I didn’t check that note…”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on kid, I’m not taking off with it, just looking at it. You don’t even have to let me touch it if you don’t want to,” Artie said as he offered the page a coin.

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment then pulled the paper from his glove and held it out for Artemus to read. It had some sort of symbol on it. After committing the symbol to memory, Artemus nodded to the boy who quickly put it away and made his way down the stairwell. Artemus turned and started back up the stairs.

He paused a few steps from the top. There was the tip of a boot protruding from the doorframe. Artemus crept up the last few stairs. Just as he reached the top step, he reached out and grabbed the person and pulled him around the corner. The would-be attacker was momentarily stunned and Artemus saw his opening and swung at him. His punch landed on the attacker’s jaw, knocking him back against the wall. They grappled for a minute or two, Artie realizing his very limited strength reserves were rapidly depleting.

He reached out to hit his opponent but he spun and Artie’s punch hit the wall instead. Artie spun around and tackled his attacker. They landed in a heap on the floor and slid across the hallway falling down the stairs to the landing. Artie landed heavily on the attacker, his wind knocked out of him. Artie struggled to stand and stayed bent over to regain his breath. When he finally straightened, he felt a stabbing pain in his right side. When he put a hand to the spot and pulled it away his fingers were red and sticky.

“Oh you tricky little devil you!” Artie said as he checked the downed man. He found he had broken his neck in the fall and he found a blood-covered knife in his hand.

Artie searched him but found no sort of papers or identification of any kind. He drug the man back up the stairs and dumped him in a heap against a wall. He heard footsteps and he quickly started back down the stairs, he painfully turned around when he reached the landing and started back up. He had his surprised look pasted on his face and it turned into a real one when he rounded the corner and ran right smack into Jim.

“Whoa, Jim, what are you trying to do, scare me to death?”

“Sorry, Artie,” Jim pulled Artie around the corner and showed him the body.

“Well, well, James you had another party and forgot to invite me?”

“I thought he was your handiwork,” Jim stated.

“Not, me, James, you told me no overworking and if I fought a mouse I’d probably lose to him,” Artie replied, gritting his teeth against the pain he was hiding from his friend.

“Speaking of which, pal, how are you holding up? I can make some sort of excuse for you if you want to go back to the hotel,” Jim said pleadingly, he didn’t like the pale look of his friends face.

“No, just tell them there’s a lecture on ancient civilizations at the museum that’s tied to the artifacts Don bought and we wanted to attend,” Artie said, breathing heavily as he tucked his elbow tightly into his side when he saw a drop of blood hit the floor.

“You going to rest then, pal?” Jim asked.

“Not just yet, Don and I have one more very important lead to check out. Then I promise I will. And tomorrow I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take all three of them off your hands,” Artie offered, hoping Jim would say no.

“Nonsense, Artie. I promised the doctor you would get every opportunity to rest and you will. But, honestly, pal; I don’t think you’re getting enough sleep. You look worse than you did this morning.”

“I’ll be fine, Jim. If we can wrap this up today then we can use tomorrow for a buckboard tour of the area or maybe some fishing then the next day they go bye bye and you can get back to playing Mother Hen.”

“Ok you go find Don, I’ll tell them you went back to the museum,” Jim turned to go, “Artie?”

“Yeah, Jim?”

“Tell Don to take good care of you till I get back to the hotel,” Artie just rolled his eyes and groaned.

Artie ran into Don just past the bottom of the stairwell. He immediately took in Artie’s disheveled appearance and came over to him. Jim was still on the stairs so Artie drug him away while telling him about the change of plans. When they got out of earshot as well as line of sight, Artie clutched his side and doubled over in pain. Donovan grabbed him and held him steady.

“Artemus, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“No, what I need is to get out of here before Jim sees through my act and comes looking for me.” Artemus groaned and Donovan put an arm around his waist to help him.

“ARGH, Don, let go!” Artemus groaned, Donovan removed his and saw the blood.

“Artemus! What happened?”

“Someone didn’t like me getting a look at that note. Come on, we’ve got to get back to the hotel. We’ll use your room. Jim’s a damned blood hound, he’ll smell it if we use ours.”

Donovan helped Artie get up on his horse and they rode away. Jim stood at the window watching. He knew something was up he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He watched until they turned down a side street.

As soon as Artie was sure they were far enough from the capital building he slumped forward in his saddle. Don pulled the horses up and got off and ran to Artemus. He lifted him upright.

“Artemus, are you okay?” Donovan asked.

“Yeah, nothing a nice case of death wouldn’t cure.” He groaned his reply. Donovan looked around.

“Hey look, a doctor’s office! We can get you fixed there, I’m not sure I know how to fix a knife wound,” Donovan headed in that direction.

“No…can’t go…there. He might…tell Grant.”

“Mr. Gordon, waiting till we get back to the hotel isn’t an option. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig. I think this is going to take more attention than I know how to give,” Artie nodded and Donovan caught him as he fell out of his saddle.

He half carried Artemus up the stairs and into the doctor’s office. The nurse jumped up and helped Donovan take him into the examination room. She told Donovan she had to go next door to get the doctor. She left and Donovan looked at Artemus. He appeared to be in a lot of pain. Donovan turned his head as a middle aged man entered the room at a run. He took his coat off and hung it on a coat rack in the corner. He walked over to Artemus and gently peeled back his shirt. The doctor grimaced.

“Can you stitch me up quickly, doctor, I’ve got to get going,” Artie hissed as the doctor wiped at the wound.

“Mister, I can sew that right up for you but you can’t be going anywhere. You need at least two or three days bed rest. And unless I miss my guess I’d say you’re suffering from extreme exhaustion and mal nutrition. In my opinion, sir, you belong in a hospital,” the doctor stated.

“Try telling that to the President,” Donovan whispered, the doctor stared at him.

“Just sew me up, doctor, please. Believe me I would love to check into the nearest hospital but right now that is not an option. I have a job to do and I have to get back to it. Maybe in a couple of days when this mission is over…” Donovan snuck a look at Artemus, knowing he would never make a slip like that. Artie let out a yelp when the doctor touched the wound with a cloth soaked in disinfectant.

“A couple more days and the only place you’ll be headed is Boot Hill.”

“I know, I know. But this is import for the country. I can’t let Grant down.”

“Is he talking about President Grant?” the doctor asked Donovan.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Gordon is…”

“Gordon…he’s a government agent isn’t he?”

“Yes sir,” Donovan replied almost as a question.

“Tell me he’s not the one I was warned about…”

“Uh yes, sir, he is, one of them anyway. You don’t have to tell the President about this just yet do you? He doesn’t want him to know until the mission is over.”

“Let me get this straight…he’s Artemus Gordon right?”

“Yes, sir. But we stumbled on something that can break the mission wide open and unfortunately he never got a chance to tell anyone. So we need him.”

“I’ve read all about him and his partner. Can’t say that I envy the hospital that gets him. I should have my head examined, and I could have my license revoked if Grant finds out if I don’t inform him,” the doctor said skeptically.

“Doctor, if you promise to fix him up and give me enough supplies to take care of him for the next two days I swear Mr. West and I will see to it he checks into the hospital first thing day after tomorrow and I am pretty sure I can get Mr. West to swear we were never here.”

“In fact I think I got stitched up by some local horse doctor, didn’t I Don?” Artemus tried to help; he just wanted this over.

“Yeah, yeah, Artemus, you did,” he smiled.

“I can see why Grant wants to keep track of you, Gordon,” the doctor shook his head and laughed as he got ready to begin.

[Artiespet]

“All right, against my better judgment, I’ll go along with your story just to get him patched up. But I’m warning you, if you don’t get to a hospital soon your body won’t give you a choice. It’ll just shut down on you.”

“Doctor, all I need is another forty eight hours. Then I will gladly collapse.”

The doctor finished cleaning the wound and sewed it closed. He gave Artemus only a mild sedative so he could be on his way as soon as possible. He taped the bandage to Artie’s side and told Donovan he made it extra thick to help hide it. When he finished he told Donovan to let Artemus sleep for at least half an hour so he wouldn’t tear his stitches.

They left the room and Donovan followed the doctor to get the supplies they would need. The doctor grabbed a small bag, handed it to him and began putting items into it.

“I’ll give you plenty of bandages…the more active he will be the more he will need to change them, he’ll still have some blood leakage until he gets some damned rest. And something tells me he’s planning on being far too active.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here are some medicines he’ll need. The powders in the blue envelopes are for putting on and around the wound to cut down on the risk of infection. He needs to do this at lease twice a day. The yellow ones are for pain, he can take them as needed,” Donovan started writing it down.

“These green ones…see to it he takes them every morning. They will help increase his appetite. He needs food as much as he needs sleep right now, maybe more.”

Donovan wrote down the other instructions the doctor had and carefully tucked the paper in his pocket. He asked how much they owed him but the doctor told him to keep his money and pay him when Artemus checked into the hospital, that way he could tell the President he received no money so no service had been performed if he was asked.

Donovan went back to the examination room and look in. Artemus appeared to be sleeping. Donovan hated to wake him but they had to get moving or Jim would beat them back to the hotel and they needed to get rid of Artemus’ bloody shirt. He felt guilty but he gently shook him. Artemus’ eyes opened and he struggled to sit up then tried to stand. Donovan steadied him, Artemus tried again and then this time he stood on his own.

They left the doctor’s office with Artemus leaning heavily on Donovan. They walked their horses back to the hotel and by the time they reached it Artemus had filled him in on the strange symbol he had seen. Artemus was positive he had seen it before and he was sure it was Russian.

“I’ve got to get my hands on some more of those notes, to be sure,” Artie said, “We need to go back for the afternoon session.”

“Oh no you don’t, Artemus. I’ve got to find a way to get you out of everything this afternoon.”

“Not going to work, Don. We can’t tell Jim and you can’t do this on your own or we tip our hand to them. I’ll be okay. We need to wrap this up and I’d like to do it tonight.”

“We have a couple hours before the afternoon session. I’m going to lie down for a bit. You come get me in an hour or I swear I’ll shoot you,” Artie grinned as he slowly went up the stairs.

Donovan put the bandages in his room and tried to come up with a plausible explanation in case Jim found them. He went back downstairs and had a cup of coffee. He sat reading the paper, pondering what Artemus had told him, trying to fit the pieces together. He glanced at the clock and rose to go get Artemus. Just as they were descending the stairs Jim entered with Matthews and Ketchum.

“James, we were just on our way to join you for the afternoon session,” Artie said as he gritted his teeth and stood up straight.

“There isn’t going to be an afternoon session, Artie,” Jim said scrutinizing his partner.

“Why not?” Donovan asked.

“Because there was a disturbance at their capital and they called the afternoon session off,” Ketchum replied angrily.

“Well, Mr. Ketchum, when a man is murdered they have to conduct an investigation,” Jim said.

“Wait, a man was murdered? When did this happen?” Artie asked innocently.

“About twenty minutes after you left,” Matthews said, “apparently he fell down the stairs and broke his neck.”

“Broke his neck?” Artie commented as he glanced at Jim who only shrugged his shoulders.

“Then what makes them think he was murdered?”

“They found a bloody knife in his hand,” Jim said as he took in Ketchum’s glare.

“Whoa, what’s this about someone getting stabbed?” Artie asked as Donovan hid a smile.

“What do you say we take this conversation to the restaurant, Mr. Gordon? I don’t know about you but I’m beyond hungry,” Artie glared at him.

“Good idea, Don, and since it seems we have the afternoon free maybe we can find something to fill the time until dinner,” Jim said, Artie groaned and rolled his eyes and Jim elbowed him in the side, it was all Artie could do not to faint.

They talked about the murder while they ate. Donovan was keeping an eye on Artemus and Jim keeping an eye on Donovan. They were up to something, Jim was sure of that. Artie was staring idly out the window. Jim knew from experience that Artie was working on some aspect of the case. He was brought back to the conversation by Ketchum’s question.

“Mr. West, what would you say to us just staying in the hotel until dinner? I am a bit tired from all the excitement and the nonstop activity?” Jim regarded Ketchum closely to gauge his response.

“If you’d like to do that, Mr. Ketchum I think that’s a good idea. We could all use a little break. What do you think, Artie?”

“Whatever you three men decide will suit me just fine,” he replied, Jim noting his breathing was fast and shallow.

“It sounds good to me as well,” Matthews said, Jim and Artie caught the exchanged glances between Matthews and Ketchum.

“A most excellent idea, Ketchum. I got some rather interesting artifacts at the museum yesterday and I would like to catalog them and crate them for shipment tomorrow. Mr. Gordon, would you mind helping me, you know a lot more about those artifacts than I do,” Jim started at the request.

“Don, maybe Artie would like the afternoon off,” Jim said even more surprised by his friends reply.

“I’d love to, you have one that I’m particularly interested in checking out,” Jim just glared at him.

Artie and Donovan remained seated until the rest of the men departed. Donovan helped Artemus to his feet and up the stairs. Just before they reached the top Artemus pushed away from Donovan and took the remaining steps alone. Just as Artie had suspected, Jim was waiting in the hallway. Artie looked him in the eye.

“Something we can do for you, James?”

“Artie, what the hell was that about? You promised you’d rest.” Jim was furious.

“Jim, I am going to rest. I just need to look at that artifact it will only take a second,” Artie protested.

“That can keep, Artie, you need rest now.”

“Jim, one of the artifacts Don bought has the same symbol I saw on that note. I just need to see if my suspicions are correct. Give me half an hour then come across the hall and get me. I promise, Jim,” Artie pleaded.

“All right, Artie, but 30 minutes no more,” Jim’s face grim as he turned and went into his room almost slamming the door.

“I hate lying to him, Don, but this just can’t be helped.”

“Yea, I know, let’s get in there and get things taken care of,” Donovan opened his door and gestured Artemus in.

Donovan eased Artemus down onto his bed and tried to ease him back onto the pillows. Artemus pushed his hand away and asked Don to bring him a certain artifact he had purchased. He handed the artifact to Artemus who examined it closely. He turned it over and in a tiny recess on one corner he spotted what he had been seeking.

“Don, do you have something small enough to fit in there?” Artie showed him the piece.

“Yeah, sure, try this,” Don handed him a small pick.

Artemus pushed it into the recess. A portion of the front of the statue moved. Artemus tilted the statue upright and peered into the opening. He pulled tweezers out of one of his many pockets, reached in and pulled out a piece of paper. He opened it and looked at it. Artemus handed the paper to Don and he leaned back on the headboard. Donovan looked at him in surprise.

“Artemus, we’d better take care of your side right away, you’re leaking,” Donovan said.

[Artiespet]

Donovan brought out the medical supplies and started to remove Artemus’ bandage. Artie grimaced and Donovan paused, but Artemus shook his head. Donovan carefully cleaned the wound the way the doctor had shown him, while he had Artemus mixing up the slave. Just as he finished bandaging Artemus’ side there was a knock at the door. Donovan quickly shoved the discarded bandages in a dresser drawer as Artemus buttoned his shirt and covered the bloodstain with his riding jacket. Donovan crossed to the door and opened it.

“Come in, James. I bet you’re here to collect your partner.”

“That I am, Don. You ready go to, Artie? I’m anxious to get you back to the room in time for a nap before dinner. Matthews and Ketchum want to spend the rest of the night in their rooms and, Artie, I think that would be a good idea for you as well.”

“First, let me show you what we found.”

Artie showed him the statue and the hidden compartment and then he showed him the paper they had found concealed there. Jim looked at it but couldn’t figure it out since he didn’t speak let alone read Russian. Artie told him it was a note about a meeting that was to take place that night.

“So that must be what that burglar was after,” Jim surmised, “but he was in the wrong room.”

“Sure looks that way, Jim. According to this note the meeting will take place in the barn at the old Duncan place at 9 pm tonight,” Artie was saying.

“So all we have to do is get there early and…”

“And nothing doing, Artie, we’ll find a way to get agents there. You are going nowhere,” Jim glared at his partner.

“But, Jim…” Artie protested.

“But nothing, Artie. I’m sick and tired of your later I promise routine. You keep running off full steam, with no regard for yourself at all. Someone has to think about you if you’re too thickheaded to do it.”

“Jim all I want to do is sit there and listen to the meeting. If what I suspect is true neither you nor Donovan will be able to do it. These notes are all in Russian, Jim. Neither you nor Don speak or understand Russian I do. Don can sneak out with me…we just sneak in listen to a little of the meeting and we’ll come back and fill you in. Then I promise I’ll do whatever you say,” Artie said.

“Whatever I say even if I tell you to check yourself into the nearest hospital as soon as these guys are on the stage?” Jim asked, he noticed Artie and Donovan exchange glances.

“Yes, Jim, anything you want. Just let me do this. Look, I still have five hours till the meeting. If I lie down till eight will that satisfy you?”

“No it won’t but we don’t have a choice. You win, but I swear to you, pal, as soon as we put Matthews and Ketchum on that stage you’re butt will be in the hospital before Grant can say look out Lee here I come!” Jim glared.

“Thanks, Jim. Don, we need to go over something real quick…”

“Artie, you promised….”

“Jim this will take ten minutes tops then it’s right to bed, honest.”

Donovan and Artemus went to Donovan’s room while Jim went to his room to time his friend. He was so upset he failed to notice the package on the sideboard. He sat in a chair staring out the window. Too many things weren’t adding up and he needed to get to the bottom of it. He rose to go across the hall when he finally noticed the package. He crossed to the sideboard and inspected it. He took the note and read it.

Artemus Gordon…I am the doctor that treated your partner, James West. I am sending you some medicines and you need to take them. Mix one package of powder with a glass of water every four hours. And, Mr. Gordon, you need at least eight to ten hours of sleep per night until you can check into the hospital. Doctor Gannon.

“Damn you, Artie,” Jim scowled, “there are still all 15 packages here,” Jim slammed the package down and stormed across the hall to get his friend.

“Thanks, Don, I’ll be glad if we can get this over with tonight. Not only do I hate keeping things from Jim, but I am so tired I can hardly see straight,” Artie confided.

“I can tell, Artemus, you almost dropped that statue on the floor trying to set it on the sideboard,” Donovan replied as there was a knock at the door. Donovan opened it and let Jim in.

“James,” he said.

“Don,” Jim replied icily. He strode over to where Artemus was sitting on the bed adjusting his shirt.

“Artemus, what’s the meaning of this…” Jim said roughly as he tossed the package in his lap. Artemus looked from the package to his partner.

“Jim…I…”

“Can it, Artie! How long have you had these and not taken them?” Jim wanted to know.
“Only since this morning, Jim. The bellboy delivered them just as we were leaving. I haven’t been back to our room so I haven’t had any chance to take them.”

“Damnit, Artie, if you care this little for your own life as well as our friendship then you just go do what you want. I won’t stand by and watch you self destruct!”

“Jim…I’m not trying to…”

“Whatever your excuse is, Artie, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll be downstairs until its time to go complete our damned mission,” Jim turned and stormed out of the room.

“Artemus?”

“Yeah, Don?” Artie said tiredly.

“James is really ticked…will he get over it?”

“I hope so, Don, I really hope so,” Artemus said sadly.

Artemus excused himself and went across the hall to his room. He sat down on the bed with a grunt. He eased himself back onto the pillows and settled in. After a whispered I’m sorry Jim, Artemus drifted off into a fitful and restless sleep. Jim entered the room quietly and saw his friend sleeping and his expression softened. How the hell is it that I can never stay mad at you, pal? Jim took in Artie’s appearance and wished they could get this assignment over with as soon as possible. He hated his friend’s sense of duty to his country, knowing it was killing him.

Jim pulled up a chair and sat next to him, watching him sleep. He looked to the sideboard and noticed that Artie had taken one of the powders. Man I really put my foot in my mouth this time, pal, Jim thought, my back is killing me but that has to be nothing compared to what you’re feeling. When you get up I’ll apologize. Jim settled back in the chair and watched his friend, puzzled by the rate of his breathing, it’s almost as if he’s been hurt.
Jim had fallen asleep but at the knock on the door he woke instantly. Donovan entered and told him he had seen both Matthews and Ketchum sneak out about half an hour ago.

“Damn, what time is it?” Jim jumped up.

“Don’t worry, James, it’s only 7:30 I think they just went to get something to eat I heard them talking as they went down the stairs. We still have time.”

“I wish Artie didn’t have to go. The Service needs more agents that speak Russian. Don, can I ask you something and would you answer me honestly?”

“If I can, sure, James.”

“What is Artie hiding?”

“Hiding? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don, he’s been acting strange all day. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I wouldn’t worry, James. Whatever it is I think tonight’s meeting will put an end to it and then you can put him in the hospital tonight.”

“Don, why do I get the feeling you think that is more important than anything?”

“Because you’ve rubbed off on him, James,” Artie grumped as he yawned and stretched, he grunted and Jim regarded him suspiciously.

“Artie, you okay?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Geez, Jim, you gotta ask that EVERY five minutes?” Artie smiled.

“No, pal, every four.”

“Artie…”

“Yeah, Jim?”

“I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad,” Jim hung his head.
“I understand, Jim. I shouldn’t have acted like I take our friendship for granted. I would never do that. I forgot for a minute that you aren’t one hundred percent either and I had no right to say what I did.”

“We both got out of hand and said some things we shouldn’t have. What do you say we talk about that later when you are safely tucked away in a hospital bed and we go get the bad guys?” Jim put on his best smile.

“James,” Artie groaned.

“Artemus, do you need to check out that statue before we go? There’s plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for forty five minutes yet,” Donovan said.

“No, Don I think I’m done with that. But you could bring the yellow papers and the white ones,” Artie hoped he understood.

“White and yellow papers? You don’t want the green ones?”

“No just the white and yellow ones. Now you go get those Jim and I need to head downstairs so he can eat before we leave. I’m pretty sure he’s been sitting here all afternoon watching me sleep,” Artie said looking at his partner.

“You eat too, pal or translator or no translator we’ll do this without you.”

They had a hurried meal, Jim noting that Artie at least made an attempt to eat. He noticed his friend favoring his right side and wondered what he was hiding. They left the hotel and headed for the meeting place on the outskirts of town. Jim noticed Artie riding almost standing in the saddle. He wondered what was causing that but he kept quiet. He vowed that whether or not the mission ended tonight Artie’s part in both missions was definitely over. They slowed as they approached the barn. They dismounted and hid their horses in the trees. They crouched and made their way to the barn and slipped inside.

Donovan had taken the lead and he found a place for them to hide where they had a good view of the open area of the barn and where Artie would be as close as possible so he could hear. They had a few minutes before anyone would arrive so Donovan took out the yellow packet he had brought and produced a small canteen. Dumping the powder into it, he offered it to Artemus. Avoiding Jim’s curious stare Artemus took the canteen and downed it. He closed his eyes for a minute to let the medicine work.

“Artie,” Jim whispered, “what was that?”

“Pain medication,” came the terse reply.

“Artie, what are you hiding from me? I know you’ve been hiding something big and I need to know,” Jim insisted.

“After this meeting I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Jim. Right now we just need to concentrate on getting through the next hour.”

“All right, pal but if you don’t’ come clean with me after this…I’ll shoot you,” Jim said jokingly.

“Trust me, James, you won’t have to. If Artemus doesn’t tell you then I will.”

“I know when I’m beat, gentlemen,” Artie put his hands up, “but I think we will owe Jim more than just an explanation when this is over,” Artie said trying to avoid Jim’s probing glare.

“Shh,” Artie said, “they’re coming in.”

Men started filing into the barn and took up seats on bales of hay. They waited until apparently all of them were assembled before one of them began speaking. Artie strained to hear and Jim noticed him holding his hand to his right side. He made a note to ask Artie what that was about. Artie’s face turned grim, his breathing become more of a rasp, a warning sign to Jim that his partner was becoming upset. Artie listened for a few more minutes as the discussion became heated.

[Artiespet]

“îäíà ìóàðîâàÿ ñåññèÿ è ìû áóäåì èìåòü âñå âîåííûå òàéíû ïåðåäàííûìè íàøèì ëþäÿì, è çàòåì ìû áîëüøå íå áóäåì íóæäàòüñÿ â ñåíàòîðå layton. Îò íåãî áóäóò èçáàâëÿòüñÿ ïîñëå ïîñëåäíåé ñåññèè,” the leader was saying, and Jim, watching his friend for any reaction didn’t like the look on his face.

“×òî îòíîñèòåëüíî äâóõ àìåðèêàíñêèõ àãåíòîâ?” Another one asked.

“Ïðîñòîé, ìû óñòðàíÿåì èõ. Ã. Ãîðäîí çàñòàâèë íàñ äîñòàòî÷íàÿ íåïðèÿòíîñòü óæå, óáèâàÿ íàøåãî øàôåðà. Îí óìðåò ìåäëåííàÿ è ïýéíôàëë ñìåðòü.” The leader spat and Artie’s face lost all remaining color.

Suddenly the door opened and in came both Matthews and Ketchum. Jim and Artie looked at each other and Artie rolled his eyes. They should have seen this earlier. The men took seats near the center and waited for their turn to speak. Artie’s jaw became like granite as he listened to Matthews speak.

“Òîâàðèùè, ìû ïðåóñïåëè. Ìû òÿíóëè øåðñòü ïî àìåðèêàíñêèì ãëàçàì àãåíòîâ. Îíè íàñòîëüêî ãëóïû, îíè íå âèäåëè òî, ÷òî ñëó÷àëîñü ïðÿìî ïåðåä èõ íîñàìè,” Matthews was saying, Artie looked like he wanted to kill him.

“Jim, how long until the cavalry gets here?” Artie whispered.

"They should be in position in about five minutes, why, Artie? What are they saying.”

“Oh just the usual. They hate us because we do our job better than our counterparts…” Artie let his whisper trail off.

“Artie…what are you leaving out, and if you don’t tell me I’ll just stand up and ask them to speak English,” Jim stated.

“Ok if you must know, they are a bit miffed because I sort of killed their top agent at the capital today and they said I’m going to die a slow and painful death. But hey look on the bright side, James, it seem they will kill you quickly out of respect for your status,” Artie smirked.

“Wait when did you kill…Artie it WAS you at the capital…you killed that man.”

“Guilty as charged. It was an accident, we slid across the hall and down the stairs. But he got in a pretty damn good shot before he went down,” Artie replied snidely.

“What does that mean?” Jim asked, “It’s your side, isn’t it, Artie? What did he do to you?”

“Not now, Jim. Get out there and tell the cavalry to get their collective butts in here in about 5 minutes. This meeting is going to adjourn and I for one don’t want to be here when it does,” Jim stared wide-eyed at his friend.

“Damn, let me guess…there’s a very large Russian agent standing behind me with a gun pointed at my head right?” Artie groaned and was prodded with a gun barrel.

“âñòàíüòå ñâèíüè ÿíêè!” Donovan and Jim looked at Artie.

“Either one of you a Yankee pig? He wants us to get up and go with him.”

They rose and all heads turned toward them. Matthews and Ketchum stood and stared open mouthed and wide eyed as the trio was herded into the middle of the barn. The leader walked up to them and stared at each one in turn. When he reached Artemus he paused. He said something in whispered tones to Artie who laughed and smiled and said something back. The man took his rifle and slammed it into Artie’s right side with a sardonic look on his face. Artie would have fallen to the floor if tow Russian agents had not grabbed him to prevent him from falling.

“Artie!” Jim yelled and tried to reach his friend, but he found himself restrained.

“I’m okay, Jim,” Artie replied through gritted teeth.

“Shut up, Mr. Gordon,” the leader said.

“Oh so you do speak English,” Artie spat, “good your Russian has become so garbled with your extended vacation here it was giving me a headache,” again Artemus was rewarded with a rifle butt to his side, this time he did slump to the floor.

“You infidel, you will get what you so richly deserve. But not just yet. First you need to watch your partner, Mr. West suffer the same fate as Yuri did at your hands today,” the man walked over to Jim.

“No! Look, that was an accident; you’ve got to believe me. I never meant to kill him. I’m tired of killing,” Artie cried, tears streaming down his face.

“Tears, how American.”

“Damnit, I’m sick of all the killing,” Artemus shouted, “I’m sick of all the cloak and dagger crap. There is no need for this anymore. We kill one of yours whether it’s an accident or not…you kill one of us…when does the killing stop?” Artie stammered.

“Mr. Gordon, you amaze me. I do believe your emotion is genuine. Nevertheless, it matters not. I, like you, have a job to do and when my country asks I do. It is a pity though, anywhere else I think I could have called you friend.”

They were roughly hauled to the side of the barn, Artie hoping he had stalled long enough. He glared at Matthews and Ketchum, vowing he would see them hang for what they had done. Jim looked at his partner and it was then he noticed the blood on his shirt. iI didn’t think they hit him hard enough to make him bleed, Jim thought, then he realized what had been the missing piece all along.

“Artie, you were the one who's blood was found on the knife,” Jim stated flatly.

“Yeah, Jim…sorry I kept it from you but we never would have gotten here if I had told you.”

“Artie you mean to tell me that you’ve been wandering around all day with a hole in your side and you didn’t tell me?” Artie could see that Jim was reaching the boiling point. Good only a little more till he blows, Artie thought.

“Yeah, Jim. I’ve been bleeding slowly since the doctor sewed me up. I made him promise not to tell you and not to notify Grant. I was only thinking of the mission, Jim,” Artie looked at his friend and tried hard to suppress the grin that was threatening to break out on his face.

“You what? Artie I ought to…”

“That’s nothing, James,” Donovan said catching on to Artemus’ plan, “the doctor gave him medicine he was supposed to take but he has been refusing. And he even dumped some of the sleeping powder in your drink last night,” Donovan looked at Artie and shrugged his shoulders, Artie just grinned, grateful Donovan was between them.

“That’s it, Artie, we’re through!” Jim spat, he glared at Artie then realization set in and he channeled that anger toward the Russians.

Jim lunged away from his captors and launched himself at the leader, knocking him over. Artie tried to dive for cover but one of the men holding him stopped him. Matthews came up and with a crooked smile on his face began hitting Artemus in the chest and body, landing as many blows as he could to his side. The bandage only protected him for a short time and soon his side was bathed in the sticky red substance.

Jim rained blow after blow onto the leader, he glanced quickly and saw what was happening to his friend and he ended his bout with the leader with a chop to his neck then he grabbed his head and twisted, snapping his neck. The man slid to the ground, unseeing eyes still open. Donovan turned on his captor and quickly subdued him. Then he and Jim headed over to Matthews when Ketchum intervened.

“Hold it right there, Mr. West. Donovan, you surprise me. Let me guess, you’re an agent of the United States as well aren’t you? It all fits. You were a plant and we should have seen it but no matter. You will all die here tonight and no one will be the wiser.” Ketchum pointed a revolver at him.

“Ketchum, you’re a bastard and you deserve to rot in hell. You people aren’t doing this for the good of your country you changed. You’re all about yourselves now. You are no worse than the Yankee pigs you claim we are,” Donovan spat.

“Maybe so but at least I will be walking out of here, tonight.”

“I wouldn’t count on that…” Donovan said as he made a grab for the gun.

Artie had gone down several blows ago but Matthews kept hitting him, raging about how he hated the American agents and their decadent lifestyle. Artie tried feebly to defend himself but lost the battle and could do little more than remain held fast in the Russians arms taking the blows. He finally lost consciousness but that didn’t stop Matthews. He continued to hit, kick and rain blows on him. Jim saw Artemus slump and he growled and jumped onto Matthews back and slammed him into the ground.

Jim had so much pent up fury his fist became pistons as he rammed them into Matthews again and again, not able to stop himself. He used Matthews like a punching bag until Matthews slid to the ground; he had been unable to protect himself from Jim’s fury. Donovan finished his man and rushed to Artemus’ side.

He gently laid him down and tried to revive the unconscious man. Jim tried to fight more of the men but they were trying to flee the barn rather than face the wrath of one very upset James West. Jim didn’t even notice the cavalry pouring into the barn, picking up the Russian agents. He dropped to the ground next to his friend.

“Artie? Hey, pal, talk to me,” Jim cradled his partner in his lap.

Jim gently stroked his hair and the side of his partner’s face; tears flowed down his cheeks not caring who saw his emotional display. Jim held his partner tightly, urging him to wake up.
“Come on, pal, wake up. You don’t want me to take credit for all this do you?”

“Why not you usually do,” came the barely audible reply.

“Hey, pal, “ Jim grinned, “cavalry will be here any minute, you just hang in there okay?”

“Your powers of observation are really slipping, Jim, the cavalry’s been here,” Artie smiled and winced.

Jim looked at his friends bloodied and battered face and his became a stone mask. Artie saw the look and knew what it meant and he knew that even it if took the last ounce of his strength he had to stop him.

“Jim… don’t do it. The Army is here let them take them. Don’t do it.”

“Artie…I” Jim began, Artie tried to rise and groaned.

“Promise me, Jim. Let the Army handle it. I refuse to be the cause of you getting drummed out of the Service. I’ll shoot you first. If you want to do that then hand me your gun right now.”

“That won’t be necessary, pal. You’re alive that’s all that matters. The Army can have Matthews,” Jim replied with a tear-streaked smile.

“What does that mean, James?” Artie asked trying to look around.

“Never mind, Artie. We are going to get you to that hospital now,” Jim made to lift his partner.

“The hotel is closer, Jim…” Artie began only to be interrupted.

“Artemus Gordon you made me a promise and you are damn well going to keep it and since it looks like you are in no shape to argue I win,” Jim grinned. He lifted his partner and headed out toward a waiting buckboard.

THREE WEEKS LATER—

Artie slowly swam toward awareness. His side didn’t seem to bother him as much as he had thought it would. Breathing seemed to be much easier than he had thought it would be as well. He slowly opened his eyes and allowed them to focus. There, where he had no doubt he would be, sat Jim in the chair by the bed. He was engrossed in an article in the newspaper.

“I see how you are, James. I take a little nap and you find reading the paper to be more important than watching me,” Artie said hoarsely.

“Well, that’s what you get when you take a three week long nap, Artie.”

“That’s not funny, James.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Artemus.”

“You mean to tell me I have been asleep for three weeks?!?” Artie said aghast.

“Yep, pal, I do. The doctors said when you woke up you’d only have to be here for another couple of weeks then you can go back to the train.”

“Well, that would account for the cuts and bruises being gone on your face. But I hardly think two more weeks will be necessary.”

“Pal, you haven’t moved in three weeks. You’ve been catching up on all that sleep you lost not to mention all the blood, which by the way Grant is furious about. The doctor said it will take you two weeks at least just to learn to move again.”

“Bu it’s good to see you finally awake, pal. I was getting worried there for a while.”

“Afraid I wouldn’t wake up were you?”

“No, not at all. I was afraid you were having a dream about some pretty filly and you didn’t invite me,” Jim said smiling.

“So we going to sit here chit chatting or are you going to tell me what’s happened while I was in what I am sure was a forced coma?”

“Not much to tell, really. Matthews and the rest of the gang were tried and convicted. They are sentenced to hang next week. President Grant wrote you a citation after he calmed down from finding out you tried to kill yourself for the good of the mission…”

“Jim…”

“Donovan was sent back to the Springfield office in Iowa…”

“James…”

“Grant didn’t revoke the license of that doctor who helped you, he just yelled at him for four hours nonstop…”

“James T. West!” Artie yelled and winced at moving muscles he wasn’t used to using.

“Yes, Artemus?” Jim replied trying to act innocent.

“What about Ketchum, you never mentioned him. What happened to Ketchum? I was hoping to get my hands on him.”

“You can’t, pal someone beat you to him.”

“Who?” Artie asked as if he didn’t know.

“I did,” Jim replied; his voice barely a whisper, his head bowed.

“Jim, look at me…” Artie put his hand on Jim’s leg, “look at me…” Jim raised his sad blue eyes to meet the understanding brown ones.

“Now I know what you went through, pal,” Jim said.

“What does that mean?” Artie wanted to know.

“I killed him, Artie. I saw what was happening to you and when he laughed all the rage came out of nowhere and I killed him with my bare hands. Everyone thinks it just happened in the melee but, Artie, I killed the man.”

“Jim, that was a man who more than deserved killing. And you let Matthews live so it evens out. We are even on the killing score so we’re done with it. That’s the end of it, period.” Artie stated.

“Now, when can you spring me from this joint?” Artie grinned.

THE END