The Night Of The Errant Game

[Artiespet]

The Night Of The Errant Game



Artie took his hat off and wiped his brow for what he estimated to be the tenth time in as many minutes. Even for the hills of Pennsylvania it was hot, too hot. He removed his fringed riding jacket and slung it across the saddle behind him. Taking a drink from his canteen Artie sighed as he absently rubbed his sore hand.

“Damn panda…biting the hand that was trying to be nice to it…” Artie mumbled as he allowed Mesa her lead. His thoughts drifted back to the strange assignment he had just completed. And what a strange one it had been!

One week ago—

Artie trailed Ozzy Sievert all the way from the Philadelphia Zoological Society to a desolate little town called Wellsborough, some 230 miles north of Philadelphia, only to find out the man had a legitimate bill of sale for the panda bear he had advertised in the Wellsborough Gazette!

“What I don’t understand, Mr. Gordon, is why you are here asking about my panda. I came about it honestly.” Sievert wanted to know as he leaned back in the chair behind the desk in the office in his home.

“Like I told you, Mr. Sievert, someone stole a panda from the Philadelphia Zoo and we’re tracking down all the leads. So now may I please see the bear?” Artie asked quickly becoming irritated.

“I don’t see what good that’ll do but come on.” Sievert rose and Artie followed him out to the barn.

Sievert opened the barn door and showed Artie to a cage in one corner. There, behind the bars, lay a sleeping panda. To Artemus it looked like an overgrown child’s toy and appeared to weigh around 200 pounds. He stared through the bars of the cage trying to get a closer look at the bear. Artie lifted the bar and opened the cage door.

“Hey, Mister, you can’t do that! Panda’s are dangerous.” Sievert tried to stop Artie.

“The stolen panda has a small number tattooed under his chin I just need to get a look.”

“Mister…that thing might look cuddly but I assure you they have more fight than any grizzly I ever saw.” Artie glanced to the animal then back to Sievert.

“Mr. Sievert, unless you know of a better way to look for that tattoo I’m going in there. Besides, he’s asleep how much harm can he be?” Artie smiled as he ducked inside the cage.

Artie cautiously approached the slumbering bruin and maneuvered around to stand in front of it. He knelt down and looked at the magnificent animal. These beasts are simply elegant, Artie thought as he carefully slipped his hand under the panda’s chin. He gently lifted the bear’s head taking great care not to wake him. Looking under his chin Artie failed to find the tattoo the Zookeeper had shown him on one of their other bears. Satisfied, he gingerly placed the panda’s head back down on its foreleg and began to pull his hand back.

The panda’s eyes shot open as he became aware of the intruder. Before Artie could even blink the panda bolted to its feet and lashed out with one paw. Artie pulled his hand back and lost his balance. Falling backward one of Artie’s arms flew up into the air. The panda clamped his powerful jaws on Artemus’ left hand and bit down hard.

“Aaaaggghhh!” Artie cried out as he yanked his hand back and jumped to his feet. Sievert rushed in and stood between Artie and the bear.

“Mr. Gordon, get out. I’ll hold him off.”

Artie didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly exited the cage slamming it shut after Sievert backed out. Ozzy put the bar back on the cage and turned to look at Artemus. Seeing the blood on his hand, Sievert led him to the house where he bandaged the hand. He told Artie to get it looked at by a doctor as soon as possible as panda bear bites could be quite damaging.

Artie was shaken back to the present when Mesa whinnied. He realized he had dropped the reins and Mesa had wandered away from the road. Leaning down, Artie scooped up the reins and shook his head as a wave of vertigo over took him. Must be from too many hours in the saddle, Artie thought as he rolled his shoulders trying to work out the fatigue.

“James, you better not tell me you had a great time in Philadelphia.” Artie mumbled as he pulled Mesa back toward the road.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim sat in the parlor car of the Wanderer looking over his report for Colonel Richmond. He had left out all the parties he had attended with the Senator’s niece not to mention the visiting dignitaries and their equally lovely daughters. I hope Artie had a good time on his mission, I’d hate to think of the mood he’ll be in if he didn’t. He hates to ride and having to ride for almost two weeks round trip won’t do much for his mood, Jim thought with a smile as he put the report in the envelope and handed it to the courier who immediately left.
WWWWWWWWWW

Artie entered the train through the ramp leading to the stable car. He rubbed his hand idly while feeding Mesa her oats and when he had her curried he headed for the parlor car to file his report.

“James!” Artie called out as he entered the parlor.

“Artie, you’re back!” Jim called out, his back to the door.

Jim poured his friend a snifter of his favorite Napoleon Brandy and handed it to him with a smile as he took in Artie’s appearance.

“Really, pal, you could take a bath first. Your report to Washington can’t be that important.” Jim smirked.

“Oh nooooo…I’ve been looking forward to this brandy for the last 200 miles.” Artie swirled the amber elixir of the gods and took a sip as he handed Jim the report he had written while sitting by his campfire the previous evening.

“Ahhhh, now THAT makes the whole miserable trip worth the time.” Artie downed the brandy and set the snifter on the sideboard then patted his stomach with his other hand, his thumb tucked into his vest pocket. Jim noted that Artie absentmindedly rubbed his hand.

“I see your mission didn’t go as well as you had hoped.” Jim nodded to Artie’s hand as he set the report down on to the table.

“What…this? It’s nothing. Stupid panda bit me is all.” Artie again rubbed at the bite.

“Here…let me take a look.”

Jim strode over to his partner and grasped his hand. Pulling him over to the light to get a better look, Jim examined the bite wound. It seemed to be healing nicely although it was still a little swollen. As he inspected the bite, Jim noticed another mark.

“Hey Artie, what’s this?” Jim pointed to the red spot.

“Huh, looks like a spider bite or something. It was pretty swollen for a day or so from that panda bite I guess I didn’t notice.” Artie shrugged as he rubbed at the irritation.

“Maybe you should get this checked.” Jim remarked with a frown.

“Oh you’d just love that wouldn’t you? Any excuse to keep attending all those fancy parties with out me.” Artie snapped adding a smile almost as an afterthought.
“Artie…”

“No, no, it’s quite all right, James. At least we know who was doing all the hard work this time.”

“Artie, that’s not fair. It was no picnic baby sitting dignitaries all day.” Jim reminded him.

“And let’s not forget wining and dining all their lovely young daughters every night either. You must have plumb tuckered yourself out.” Artie looked at Jim and stifled a yawn.

“Come on, Artie, we agreed…” Jim began only to be cut off.

“No as I recall it was you who agreed. I never would have agreed to a 500 mile round trip on horseback! You know, Jim, sometimes I think you take me for granted.” Artie poured another brandy and quickly drank it down, then set his snifter down on the sideboard and kept his back to his partner.

“Artie, the last thing I would do is take you for granted. You know more about stuff like panda bears than I do. You were the logical one to send. And I’m sorry I had to keep the train here but it was necessary.” He tried to placate Artie and Jim frowned when Artie kept rubbing at his hand.

“Yeah, for your cushy assignment. You HAD to have the train. You COULDN’T just take the ladies out to dinner without bringing them to YOUR train and showing off.”

“Artie, I…”

“I don’t want your platitudes, Jim. You wanted to make my part of the assignment tougher because you don’t think I can take it.” Artie stifled another yawn as he turned to face his fellow agent.

“That’s not true and you know it, Artie. Where is this coming from? We discussed the case before we chose who went where and you said you were happy with the arrangement. If you weren’t you should have said something.”

“Well, I’m saying it now. You know I have half a mind to ask for some vacation time and just get away from here for a little while.” Artie regarded his partner sternly.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot,” Jim went to the desk and retrieved the telegram from the Colonel. “Once your report is filed we get a whole month off!” Jim hoped the information would boost his friend’s spirits.

“A whole month? Who ordered that?”
“Apparently the Old Man himself ordered it. Seems when he was looking over the records he noticed we haven’t had any leave since the New Year.”

“I have an idea, James.” Artie looked thoughtful.

“Artie I don’t like that look…” Jim eyed him cautiously.

“How about we settle this once and for all?” Again Jim noted Artie was rubbing his hand but he didn’t seem to be aware he was doing it.

“Settle what?” Jim asked trying to figure out what his partner was up to.

“How about we settle just how good an agent I really am.” Artie looked smugly at him.

“Artie, I told you, you’re a good agent.” Jim was becoming frustrated.

“Yeah, I’m good…just not as good as you right?”

“Sure I’m better than you at some things but Artie you’re better at a lot of things than I am.” Jim tried to appease him, noting that he was again rubbing at the bite on his hand and he was trying to stifle another yawn.

“I suggest we find out just how good I am.” Artie was adamant and not about to let this go.

“Fine, Artie, what do you suggest?” Jim asked just hoping to get it over with so they could get on to their vacation.

“What I propose is a contest of sorts,” Artie waved his partner to silence when he tried to interject, “Hear me out before you say no.” Jim nodded and Artie continued.

“Now, we have the next month off right? I think we could pull this off…” Artie pulled the map down from behind the cupboard above the sideboard and ran his fingers along the map.

“Pull what off? What are you talking about, Artie?” Jim was perplexed.

“A contest James my boy. We’re here,” Artie pointed to the map, “I say we set San Francisco as the finish line.” Jim was beginning to see where Artie was headed.

“So the contest is to see who can get there first.” Jim stated with a smile.

“Very good…but you’re wrong.” Artie smiled back, “Close but not quite what I had in mind. I propose that you give me oh say a day’s head start and then we will find out just how good an agent I really am.” Artie turned a smug look toward his partner.
“I get it, you want me to give you a head start then I have to find you, is that it?” Jim asked.

“Now you’re talking, partner. I bet you I can reach San Francisco before you can find me.”

“That’s a pretty long shot, Artie. I might not be as good a tracker as you but surely I could find you before you got to Chicago let alone San Francisco. This train can beat any horse…” Artie glared at his partner.

“Oh noooo. We’re on vacation--remember? No train, Washington has wanted to do an overhaul on her and now is as good a time as any. You’ll pack your saddlebags same as me.” Jim looked astonished.

“Oh come on, Artie, that’s a little harsh don’t you think?” Jim chided him.

“No I do not! You don’t seem to want to let loose of this train unless the Colonel forces you to. Maybe I’m not the one who’s soft.” Artie chided back.

“All right, Artie, you’ve got yourself a deal. What are the stakes?”

“Hmm…loser buys supper and tickets to the play, musical or opera of the winners choice at The California Theater including hotel accommodations.”

“You’re looking pretty smug there, pal. Okay you’re on.” Jim extended his hand and Artie shook it.

“You ought to clean up first, and maybe you should get that hand looked at before you head out.” Jim tried to get another look at Artie’s hand before he pulled it back.

“Oh no you don’t. Your slippery tongued tricks don’t work on me…I’m not a female. I’ll see you in San Francisco, James.” Artie tipped his hat as he headed out of the parlor.

“May the best man win,” Jim said to his partner’s retreating back.

“I will, James, I will.” Artie’s voice drifted back into the parlor.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim watched his partner leave and he didn’t like the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He crossed to the telegraph and sent a quick wire to Wellsborough. Knowing it could be some time before he had his answer he also sent a wire to Washington asking the medical section for any information they could dig up on the bite. He described it the best he could. He also asked for treatment instructions as well as symptoms should they be able to identify the type of insect bite Artie had received.

WWWWWWWWWW

[Artiespet]

Artie headed to his room to pack his saddlebags and an idea came to him. He quickly grabbed several items and tossed them into his carpet bag. Smiling to himself and whistling, Artie turned to his sideboard and pulled his makeup mirror toward him.

Several minutes later a stooped shouldered, grizzled looking red haired man dressed as a farmer stepped out of Artie’s room. After yelling a “see you in San Francisco” to his partner, Artie headed toward the stable car, where he made plenty of noise as if he were saddling Mesa. After a final pat on her neck Artie slipped out the side door and headed for the train station.

WWWWWWWWWW

The gruff looking old farmer shuffled his way to the counter and made a show of searching through his pockets for his wallet. The agent at the window rolled his eyes and sighed, it was going to be a long day.

“Sir, where do you want to go?” The agent asked the man. The man gave no indication he had heard the question.

“Now, I know that wallet is here somewhere,” the man muttered to himself.

“Sir! If you tell me where you want to go I can make the ticket out while you look for your wallet.” The agent told him sternly, “Otherwise I’m going to have to ask that you step out of line…you’re holding things up.” The man looked up at the agent as if he were seeing him for the first time.

“I got it right here, keep yer shirt on.” He snarled as he shoved some bills under the cage frame.

“Sir, WHERE do you wish to travel?” The agent asked irritated.

“What? Oh, uh where do your trains go?”

“We go in all directions, sir. Just where is it you want to go and I’ll tell you which train is going there.” Artie stared at the man for a long moment.

“How about West? You got any trains goin West?”

“Yes, sir. I need to know exactly where in the West you wish to travel to so I can make out your ticket.” Artie could see the agent was getting flustered.

“You got a train goin’ to Chicago anytime soon?” Artie looked at him, squinting one eye then he leaned over and spit into the nearby spittoon.

“Yes sir that will be $17.00.” The agent quickly wrote out the ticket.

“Seventeen dollars? Why don’t I just stick a stamp on myself and call me mail.” Artie griped as he accepted his change and his ticket.

The ticket agent shook his head and turned his attention to the next person in line as the farmer checked his ticket and boarded the train.


WWWWWWWWWW

Jim finished his brandy as he sat at the table contemplating how he was going to start his hunt for his partner. I sure wish I knew what got him so riled up, Jim was thinking when the telegraph key rattled him out of his thoughts. Jim walked over and pushed the key through the books hoping it wasn’t a message cancelling their leave. As he listened to the wire Jim’s expression turned dark.

“What the…oh no.” Jim quickly sent a reply and hurried to try and catch Artie.

When he entered the stable car Jim halted mid step…Mesa was still in her stall! Jim checked Blackjack’s stall but his horse was still there. Well, if Artie didn’t take a horse what did he take? Jim wondered as he headed toward his partner’s room. Opening the door, he looked inside. Scanning the room quickly he discovered that Artie’s field makeup kit and several wigs were missing.

“Oh great, pal, you couldn’t make this easy could you.” Jim’s half smile didn’t reach his eyes as he pulled the door closed.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie showed his ticket to the conductor and took a seat. He was bone tired and the three day trip to Chicago would give him ample opportunity to catch up on his sleep. As Artie leaned back in his seat, his legs outstretched, he looked out the window and watched the crowds on the platform.

A familiar blue clad form was making its way along the platform hurriedly checking everyone he passed. Artie pulled his tattered hat down and slouched in his seat as the figure of his partner began looking in the windows scanning the faces of the passengers. He was pulled away from the train by a burly security agent and as he pulled his ID out and shoved it under his nose the train began to pull out. Artie smiled at Jim and nodded his head as he watched Jim argue with the agent. It serves you right for not waiting until tomorrow, Jim.

WWWWWWWWWW

“Bit by a tick from a panda you say.” The agent was saying as Jim was quickly losing his patience.

“Yes, now if you’ll get out of my way I’ve got to find my partner.” Jim’s eyes were scanning the crowd.

“What does this agent look like?”

“He’s…uh…Artie’s…” Jim stammered.

“Well, he’s your partner don’t you know what he looks like?” the agent asked, “Hey this ain’t one of them games is it?” Jim did a double take at the game comment.

“Game?” Jim stared blankly.

“Mister, if you’re trying to pull one over on me…” the agent started angrily.

“No, I’m not.” Jim stated emphatically. “It’s just that my partner…well…he’s really good at disguises. He could look like anybody.” The security agent regarded him for a moment.

“You really are worried. Come on we can talk to the ticket agent maybe he remembers your partner.”

They approached the ticket agent’s window and Jim apologized to the people in line as the security agent forced his way in. Their conversation was mostly useless until Jim asked the man to describe some of his customers. When he began describing the farmer Jim became excited. He listened intently to the description, shushing the security agent when he tried to stop him. When the agent repeated the farmer’s remark about sending himself as mail Jim knew that had to be Artie.

“This farmer, tell me more about him. What did he look like…what was he wearing…did he have any scars or identifying marks?” Jim fired the questions at the agent faster than a Gatling gun.

“Whoa, mister, one question at a time.”

“Fine, what did he look like?” Jim tried to be patient.

“He looked like a farmer. Let me see…he had red hair and he had a bushy beard, very unkempt.” The ticket agent remarked with disgust.

“Keep the editorial comments to a minimum.” Jim snarled, “What else can you tell me about his looks? Did he have any scars?” Jim prodded.

“No, not that I recall.” The ticket agent looked thoughtful for a moment, “There was one thing though…he kept scratching his hand. You know, like it was bothering him or something. And he was kind of sweaty even for noon. It isn’t that warm today.”

“Anything else you can remember? Anything at all?” Jim asked wanting to end the interview and find his friend.

“Yes, sir, it struck me as real strange.”

“What struck you as strange?”

“His ticket…he bought an open ended ticket.”

“What’s an open ended ticket?” Jim asked curious.

“A passenger can request an open ended ticket so they can travel to any stop on the line. If they go farther than what they paid me the conductor collects it at the other end.”

“And Artie…uh the farmer got one of these open ended tickets?”

“Yeah, but he asked a lot of questions about some of the stops.”

“Which stops?”

“Oh now let me see…there was Chicago, St. Louis, Fargo, Santa Fe, Spokan Falls, Denver, San Francisco. He asked about most of the major stops.” Jim looked crushed.

“Where was the train headed that just left here?”

“Let me look.” The agent consulted his clipboard. “That one goes all the way to the end of the line in Springfield, Ohio.”

“Damn, he could get off anywhere. Is there any way to get word to the conductor on that train?”

“Well, the next stop with a telegraph office is Harrisburg. I can wire the station there and have them get him a message.”

“You do that. I’ve got a private train on the East siding…I want clearance and clear track for it at once.” Jim turned and headed for the train without waiting for confirmation from the ticket agent.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie was jolted awake when the train switched tracks. Looking out the window he saw that night had fallen. I must have been more tired than I thought, Artie surmised as he stretched and looked around. Most of the passengers were either nodding off themselves or engrossed in quiet conversation with their neighbors. Artie looked down at his hand and noted that it didn’t look like his and neither did his clothes. What the…am I on a mission? Just where am I anyway?” Artie saw the conductor making his way through the car and stopped him.

“Where is this train headed?” Artie asked, rubbing his hand.

“This train goes all the way to Springfield. Let me see your ticket, sir.” The conductor checked Artie’s ticket and used his punch to mark the ticket.

“Do you know where I’m supposed to be getting off?” Artie tried to look at the ticket in the darkened car.

“Says here you’ve got an open ended ticket. You can get off anywhere you’d like.” The conductor handed the ticket back to Artemus and continued on his way.

“Anywhere…now why would I do that?” Artie muttered to himself.

Leaning back in his seat with his arms folded across his chest Artie sat deep in thought, slowing drifting off to sleep.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim had wired Harrisburg for confirmation and they assured him if Artemus were on the train they would detain him. Jim called forward to Orrin and told him the situation. He asked Orrin to push the engines and get to Harrisburg as soon as possible. Orrin had assured him they would make good time.

The telegraph rattled and Jim looked up from the papers he had been reading and tapped his acknowledgement. Writing down the message Jim’s forehead creased in a deep frown. The medical division in Washington had researched the bite as Jim described it. They ordered Jim to get Artemus to a hospital as soon as possible. The bite Artemus had received was from a tick that was most likely carrying a virus that caused terrible side effects.

“Oh the Colonel’s gonna love this one!” Jim moaned as he tapped out his reply.

WWWWWWWWWW

“The telegram you requested, sir.” The aide handed the paper to Richmond and beat a hasty retreat. Richmond opened the wire and his eyes quickly scanned it.

“They WHAT?” Richmond bellowed and threw the paper onto his desk. Grabbing the intercom pipe he called to his secretary, “Contact the President…tell him I need to speak with him immediately.”

“Those agents are going to be the death of me.” Richmond grumped, “And bring me something for my stomach!” Richmond added as he slammed the pipe back into its casing.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie woke from his dream shaking his head and chuckling softly to himself. The sleep seemed to have cleared some of the cobwebs from his head and he remembered why he was on the train. Jim thinks he’s better than I am…I’ll show him, Artie grinned as he grabbed his carpet bag and headed toward the baggage car.

When he emerged the grizzled old farmer had been replaced with a dark haired, bearded sailor with a scar that ran from his right ear all the way down his jaw line. Artie laughed to himself as he took his seat and no one seemed to think he was out of place. The conductor came by and asked Artie for his ticket. He only glanced casually at the sailor when he saw that he had already punched the item.

“James, my boy this is going to be fun.” Artie whispered to himself as he settled back into his seat pushing his sailor’s cap back on his head.

WWWWWWWWWW

“Harrisburg…stopping in Harrisburg in five minutes!” The conductor called out as he made his way through the car and into the next one.

Artie stretched and tried to work the kinks out as the train pulled into the station. His eye caught the movement of the sheriff and several men he could only assume were deputies and he sat up straighter in his seat.

The men stopped the passengers as they disembarked to ask questions, trying to find the farmer. Artie tried to contain his smile when he realized they were most likely looking for him. He pulled his pea coat tight and pulled his cap back down over his brow as the sheriff and his men boarded the train and began to search the passengers.

“Is there a problem, Sheriff?” One man asked as his wife looked on worried.

“Just trying to locate a man, nothing to worry about.” The Sheriff assured them.

“Is he wanted for something?” Another man asked.

“No, seems he’s some sort of federal agent and he was bitten by a bug. His boss is trying to find him.” The Sheriff was approaching Artie’s seat.

“May I see your ticket, sir?” The sheriff asked, looking the sailor over.

“Uh…sure, sure…here you are mate.” Artie handed him the ticket.

“Open ended ticket huh. You sure don’t look like no farmer. The fella we’re lookin’ for has an open ended ticket too.” The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed.

“A farmer eh? Seems I recall a red headed farmer getting off at the last stop.” Artie told him, biting his lip to keep from grinning.

“Red haired you say? You sure he got off at the last stop?”

“Aye, sir. He was sitting right here. Said something about heading south I believe. Yes…that’s it…he said he was heading south. Had to avoid some fancy dude I believe he said.”

“Well, thank you, sir.” The Sheriff handed him his ticket and went on.

“I can taste that supper now, James.” Artie chortled as he turned back to the window.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim paced the small confines of the parlor car wishing the train were moving faster. He had received the telegram stating that Artie had not been found when the train reached Harrisburg, and that one of the passengers recalled having seen him get off before that stop. When he wired Washington, Colonel Richmond had ordered him there to report in person. This isn’t good, not good at all, Jim thought as he stopped his pacing and walked over to the side panel in the fireplace. Opening the panel he removed the speaking tube and called forward to the engine.

“Orrin…” Jim paused as he put the tube to his ear then back to his mouth, “how long until we reach Washington?” Again Jim put the tube to his ear and listened.

“Thank you, Orrin…and no, as much as I’d like you too, don’t push the engines too hard. We’ll be picking Colonel Richmond up there and I don’t want to have to listen to him yell.” Jim put the tube back up to his ear and chuckled.

It would be a long few hours but they would arrive in Washington and if they didn’t have to tarry too long Jim was confident he could pick up Artemus’ trail before he could get too far.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t follow you all the way north, pal.” Jim commented softly, “We’ll find you before tomorrow night I’m sure.” Jim sighed as he returned to his pacing.

WWWWWWWWWW

[Artiespet]

Artie grabbed his carpet bag and headed off the train, mingling in with the crowd of loved ones and well wishers on the platform. His shoulders stooped somewhat and he shuffled his feet as he headed away from the noise in search of a livery stable. Artie had slept most of the way from Philadelphia but he felt as though he needed to find a hotel and take a long nap.

Dismissing the fatigue as nothing more than a long bumpy train ride, Artie started down the street looking in shop windows as he made his way along. Good grief Artemus…you look like death warmed over even under all this makeup, Artie thought as he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the windows. He saw a poster in a window advertising a play and his heart skipped a beat. LILY! Artie hadn’t thought about the possibility of bumping into her here!

Turning away quickly, thankful he had changed his disguise to the sailor and added a scar, Artie slammed into a man headed toward the train station he had just left.

“Sorry, sir,” Artie said distractedly.

“That’s quite all right…uh…Artemus?” Artie looked up in a panic to see that he had bumped into none other than Frank Harper.

“Frank?” Artie questioned.

“I didn’t know you were here…you must be on an assignment…nice get up, by the way.” Frank smiled.

“Uh…yeah.” Artie answered as he looked around for a way to make his escape.

“I’m sure you want to get back to your assignment.” Frank nodded toward the playbill in the window. “You going to see her?”

“No!” Artie replied a little more forcefully than he intended. “I…can’t risk that right now. In fact I’m heading out of town. I was on my way to the livery to hire a horse.” Artie pulled away from Frank and started to walk away when Frank called out him.

“Sorry to have bothered you, sir. I thought I knew you…guess not.” Artie merely waved as he headed across the street.

Damn, if he tells Lily I’m sure she’ll tell Jim. It’s only a matter of time before he gets wise to me and starts checking with my friends, Artie quickened his pace as the livery stable came into view.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when the telegraph key sounded, breaking the eerie silence that had befallen the parlor car. He sent his acknowledgement and grabbed paper and pencil to take down the message. He had sent feelers out to every agent he could locate…this one was coming in from Chicago, that meant Frank Harper.

The door opened and Colonel Richmond entered the train carrying a valise. Jim started to rise to stand at attention when the Colonel waved him off, noting the clicking of the telegraph. He took a seat near the desk and listened as Jim took down the message. Richmond’s expression turned grim as he transcribed the message in his head. When Jim had tapped out his reply, including further instructions, Richmond waited until he had replaced the key inside the false books before he spoke, breathing deeply as he did so.

“Jim, do you have anything you’d like to tell me?” Richmond glared and Jim tried not to meet his gaze. When Jim failed to answer Richmond spoke again.

“James…what was that all about? Is there something going on that I need to be informed about? Why would Frank Harper tell you he just saw Artemus in Chicago and in disguise no less?” Richmond demanded.

“Sir, let me get the train headed North and I’ll answer your questions.” Jim spoke softly as he contacted the engineer and told him to head to Chicago with all possible speed. When he turned around the Colonel was staring a hole in him waiting for his explanation.

“Well…are you going to tell me why Harper wired you or do I have to wire him and get an explanation?” Jim could see the anger in Richmond’s eyes.

“Sir, it’s not what you think…exactly.” Jim began.

“Suppose you tell me exactly what it is, MISTER West.” Richmond glared.

Jim stood at attention with his hands behind his back and in his calmest voice reported everything that had taken place. When he reached the part in his report about this all being a contest between the two agents, Richmond shot up out of his chair like a rocket, knocking the chair over backward, which made a dull thudding sound as it hit the floor.

“You WHAT? Have you any idea how this sounds? You two were given a month off and you planned on playing cat and mouse? Of all the…” Richmond began to pace.

“Really sir, I feel terrible. Had I known Artie was this sick I never would have agreed to the contest.” Jim winced and inhaled quickly when he realized he had just put the noose around his neck.

“You mean to tell me you KNEW Artemus was sick and you two still cooked up this…this…game?” Richmond was toe to toe with Jim shouting in his face.

“I…”Jim sighed, “not really, sir. I only had time to check Artie’s bite. I told him to get it looked at before he took off. He was supposed to get a head start…” Just shut up, James, while you’re still out of the stockade, Jim shouted to himself.

“Oh a head start huh…and just how much of a head start does he have?” Richmond asked not sure he wanted to know.

“Well, since he started out by tricking me and disguising himself…the trip down here…travel time back to pick up his trail…I’d have to say Artie has about three days on us…uh…I mean me. Artie has about three days on me sir.” Richmond could see that Jim felt about an inch high but he was in no mood to let the agent off easy.

“You had better hope we can pick up his trail in Chicago, Jim. Grant’s fit to be tied. It was all I could do to talk him into staying in Washington and not joining in the search.” Jim’s head snapped up at that comment.

“The President wanted to…oh boy what have we done?” Jim sighed.

“What you two have done, James, is to invoke the President’s wrath. Even Congress isn’t that stupid.” Jim sighed audibly and Richmond almost felt sorry for him.

“I am so sorry, sir. I will find Artie and I will find him in time.” Jim vowed.

“You had better hope so, Jim. Grant’s calling for your badge if you don’t.” Jim’s eyes widened.

WWWWWWWWWW

Thinking Jim might check all the liveries in the area for rented animals, Artie parted with some of his money and bought a fine horse and saddle. I can sell it once I get to San Francisco, Artie thought as he laughed at the story he had told the livery owner. Jim would never suspect it was Artie that had bought the horse. He had paid a few saddle tramps he had met to rent horses and give the livery owner towns spread out in every direction as their destination.

Artie entered the telegraph office tugging at his collar and wiping his brow. Where had he picked up a fever? Dismissing it as the beginnings of a cold and shaking his head, he approached the counter and spoke to the clerk.

“I’d like to send a telegram.” Artie said as he wrote his message out on the pad at the counter.

The clerk looked the message over then he glanced between the pad and the man sending the message. He excused himself and went to the back room and looked through his received wires. Nodding to himself he returned to the counter and spoke in a hurried voice.

“Your name wouldn’t happen to be Artemus Gordon would it?” The clerk asked and Artie eyed him warily.

“Maybe…why do you ask?” The clerk held out an envelope.

“I have a telegram here for him.” Before he could say more Artie took the wire and opened it, his eyes scanning the page.

“Oh really, James, how can you think I’d fall for something so see through as that. You really must think I belong behind a desk or I’m not much better than a wet behind the ears greenhorn agent.” Artie snickered as he reached for the pad the clerk held.

“I need to rewrite my response.” Artie smirked as he tore the sheet off and wrote out a new wire.

“Think you can trick me do you, Jim? Well wait’ll you get a load of this!” Artie muttered as he quickly scribbled. Before handing the message to the clerk Artie looked at him conspiratorially.

“Hey can you send this wire to this key code but make it look like it came from somewhere else?” Artie grinned as the clerk looked at him as if he had lost his marbles.

“Uh…sure that can be done. Where would you like this to come from?”

“Hmm…how about Orland Park? They’ve got a telegraph office there. Have them send the wire to that key code.” Artie reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill and handed it to the clerk.

“This ought to cover it.” The clerk looked at the money and his eyes bulged.

“This is more than enough, sir. I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can. Consider it payment in advance.” Artie smiled.

“Payment for what?” The clerk asked perplexed.

“Oh I have a little favor to ask.” Artie leaned close to the clerk and talked in hushed tones.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim was trying to stay out of the Colonel’s way while at the same time staying close to the telegraph, hoping to hear from Artie. He and the Colonel had spent several hours sending telegrams to every town they could think of in the area with a full description of Artie asking him to contact Jim on an urgent matter. Not hearing back was beginning to grate on Jim’s nerves.

Both men started when the key clacked to life. Jim sprang up and quickly tapped out the acknowledgement. He gestured to the Colonel to pull the map down and asked him to look for a town called Orland Park. Jim wrote out the message and tapped out his closing reply. Tossing the pencil onto the desk Jim pounded his fist in frustration.

“What is it?” Richmond asked positive he didn’t want to hear what his agent was about to tell him.

“It’s Artie. He…he thinks this is a ruse to get him to stop the damn game!” Jim’s voice trembled slightly.

“James, while this whole contest idea was not one of you two’s better ideas…it’s not your fault Artemus isn’t buying your telegrams.”

“I know that, sir, but I feel like it’s my fault. If anything worse happens to him…I’ll never forgive myself.” Richmond didn’t reply, as he knew no punishment he could mete out could be any worse than the one Jim was giving himself at the moment.

“What did that telegram say? Maybe we can get some clue as to where Artemus is.” Richmond accepted the paper.

Good one, Jim <stop>
Not buying it <stop>
See you in SF<stop>
CMIYC, Artie <final stop> Richmond looked at Jim puzzled.

“What does that last line mean?” Richmond asked as Jim sighed heavily.

“Catch Me If You Can.” Jim nearly whispered.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie left the mercantile with the food he had purchased and mounted his new steed. It certainly wasn’t his favorite mare, Mesa, but he would get him to San Francisco well ahead of Jim. Artie couldn’t resist a chuckle when he thought about the telegram he had sent. Jim’s off on a wild goose chase now for sure, Artie thought as he stopped and looked down the road toward Orland Park. Grinning and shaking his head, Artie turned his horse and headed west.

WWWWWWWWWW

“If Artemus thinks you two are still playing the game would this really have come from Orland Park?” Richmond asked looking thoughtful.

“Hmm…you might have something there.” Jim replied. Artie did think I told him…” Jim let the sentence trail off and avoided Richmond’s pointed glare.

“Just what did you tell him?” Jim knew he wouldn’t be able to remain silent.

“Artie thought I inferred that he wasn’t as good as I am and he cooked up this contest as his way to prove it to me.” Jim suddenly found the floor very interesting, as he stared at a spot on the carpet like a little boy who had just been caught with both his hands in the cookie jar.

“Is there anything else you’d care to tell me or will I find out along the way?” Richmond regarded him sternly.

“No…no sir, that’s it. Artie came in from his mission and he was acting strange. He was upset about how he thought I was treating him and the next thing I know I had agreed to the game.” Jim shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“I see. Well, then we had better find Artemus hadn’t we? Now, where was this contest supposed to wind up?”

“In San Francisco…”

“San Francisco? That’s 3,000 miles!”

“Yes sir, but Artie picked the finish line. I guess he was really ticked at me. He figured if he had the entire country to hide in he could get there before me.” Jim sighed.

“Sir, I was thinking…shouldn’t we just head straight for San Francisco and just be waiting there with a doctor when Artie gets there?” Jim was at least putting his mind into gear finally.

“We may not have that luxury. The report I brought with me says we need to get him to a doctor as soon as possible. Only a blood test can tell for certain what kind of poison is in his system.”

“How long do we have?” Jim was sure he didn’t want to know.

“There was no way to tell from the symptoms you described. It could be anything from a simple influenza to Rocky Mountain spotted fever.”

“Then we need to head away from Orland Park.” Jim spoke with a frown.

“Why is that, James?” Richmond asked puzzled.

“I think you were on to something earlier, sir. If Artie thinks this is still the game he’ll keep thinking in that mode. I don’t think he’s anywhere near Orland Park.”

“Where do you think he might be?”

“That’s just it, I’m not sure but I think we can pick up his trail if we stop in Chicago. I want to talk to Frank Harper.” Finally having a solid plan Jim turned and headed to his room without taking proper leave. Richmond let his insubordinate behavior go for the time being.

WWWWWWWWWW

Three days later—

Artie pulled the reins tight on his steed. He had made excellent time from Chicago. His fever had come and gone, and he had made the most of it, making good time. Artie paused to look up at a large rock formation. Hmmm…why do they call that Pompey’s Pillar, Artie wondered, looks like a big square to me. As Artie straightened in the saddle working the kinks out of his back he groaned.

“Oh that hurt.” Artie rubbed at his lower back, “Don’t tell me that fever is going to rear its ugly head again.”

Suddenly Artie pulled his horse’s reigns so tight his steed snorted and pawed the ground. Artie wiped his eyes and squinted, looking toward the Pillar. Shaking his head, he pulled his spyglass out not trusting his eyes from this distance. He put the spyglass to his eye and looked through it then lowered it, staring in confusion.

“Well, I’ll be!” He exclaimed, “It can’t be…but it IS! That’s a panda!” Artie put the spyglass back up to his eye.

“Hey…where did it go?” Artie searched the area and found no trace of the bruin. He grunted as he took one last look at the Pillar and spurred his horse onward toward a small town. I gotta find a doctor in this town, he thought.

He entered the town and looked around. Looks like any other dirt water, two bit town you’ve been in Artemus. Just get what you need and get out. Hmm…just in case Jim gets wise why don’t you change your appearance? A sailor looks a tad out of place. Artie pulled his horse behind a building and when he emerged he looked like a typical gambler his moustache and long sideburns neatly trimmed.

WWWWWWWWWW

The Wanderer pulled into the station in Chicago and Jim was jumping from the platform almost before the Colonel. They headed for Frank’s hotel and their prearranged meeting. They found him waiting for them in the lobby. Frank led them to the hotel’s restaurant. They waited until the waitress brought their coffee before breaking the silence.

“Your telegram wasn’t very clear, sir. Just what is it you need?” Frank asked.

“We need to know everything you can tell us about Artemus. What he was disguised as, how he looked, where he was headed. Anything you can recall.” Richmond told him looking over his cup.

“Well…he was just coming from the train station. I bumped into him on the boardwalk. He seemed, I don’t know, distracted. He had a lot of makeup on. Fake scar…” Frank ran his thumb along the side of his face, “dark beard and moustache. Looked like a sailor.” Richmond nodded and Jim sighed.

“Did you notice anything else? Did he seem sick to you?” Jim asked hesitantly.

“Sick? No, well…now that you mention it he did seem a little off. And he was almost scared to death when I asked if he was going to see Lily.”

“Lily’s in town?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, her company is performing over at McVickers Theater. When I asked if he was going to see Lily you’d have thought Artemus was going to jump out of his skin. He practically took my head off.”

“That’s not like, Artie.” Jim exhaled deeply.

“James, it doesn’t mean anything.” Richmond told him. “Frank, did you see which way he went?”

“No, sir but I did some checking after I got your wire, he apparently went to the livery. I didn’t have time to check with the proprietor.” Jim tossed some coins onto the table and rose, heading for the livery.

“Come on then, let’s go talk to the livery owner.” Richmond and Harper had to hurry to catch the newly energized agent.

WWWWWWWWWW

“You’re a bit overdressed for this neck of the woods mister.” The store clerk commented as he filled Artie’s order.

“I’m just passing through on my way to Denver. There’s a big poker game there with my name on it.” Artie smiled at the shopkeeper.

“You have quite a ride ahead of you. I’d be careful if I was you. Riding like you are you’ll have to go right through Indian Territory.” The clerk admonished.

“Oh that’s what I’m counting on.” Artie smiled, “This town wouldn’t happen to have a doctor would it?” Artie asked as an afterthought.

“Sure does…third house on the left toward the edge of town. You can’t miss it; he’s got the only yellow house in town.” Artie paid for his things, thanked the clerk and left.

WWWWWWWWWW

Colonel Richmond stood silently by letting Jim conduct the interview with the livery stable owner. He listened as Jim’s interrogation was thorough but almost bordered on harassment. Jim bristled when the man told him he had had too many customers that day to remember just one.

“Come on, you mean to tell me you don’t remember my partner?” Jim spoke through tightly clenched teeth.

“Calm down, James, badgering him won’t help.” Richmond finally spoke softly.

“Like I told you sirs, it was a really busy day. I’ve not had a day like that since…well…ever. It all started after the train came in. Some local saddle tramps came in and rented some of my stock. Kind of funny though…” the man stopped as he scratched his head.

“What was funny?” Jim prodded.

“The saddle tramps. They all rented my stock and promised to leave it in neighboring towns.” The man looked to Jim and Richmond.

“Is that out of the ordinary for you?” Richmond wanted to know.

“Oh no not at all…I wire ahead and let the stable owners know to expect them. I’ve not had any trouble getting my horses back.” The man assured them.

“Then what struck you as odd.” Richmond prodded him to continue.

“There was one gentleman…he didn’t rent a horse, he bought one though. Now there was a real odd duck.” The proprietor looked at Jim puzzled. “He was dressed as a sailor but I got the impression he was more than that.” A quick glance passed between Jim and the Colonel.

“Do you know where he was headed?” Jim asked excitedly.

“No…since he bought the horse I didn’t ask. I’m sorry. But I did see him tie his horse over in front of the telegraph office. You might try there.” The last sentence was spoken to thin air as Jim ran out with Richmond close on his heels.

WWWWWWWWWW

[Artiespet]

“Son, I’m just an old country doctor but unless I miss my guess what you’ve got is no ordinary influenza. You need to stay here for a few days and let me run some tests.” The doctor informed him as Artie pulled his shirt on and began to button it.

“Sorry, doctor, but I can’t do that right now. I’ve got a date in San Francisco!” Artie smiled slyly, “Can you just give me something for the aching and I can be on my way.” Artie pulled his jacket on stifling a groan.

“The best I can do without knowing your symptoms would be pain powders.” The doctor eyed him skeptically. “How do I know you aren’t running from the law?”

“My good doctor I AM the law.” Artie showed him his ID.

“That explains the fancy fake get up.” Artie gave the doctor a quick double take.

“Yeah…well, I’m on a case, it’s part of my job.” Artie stammered.

“Is it also part of your job to ignore your health?” The doctor shot back at him.

“In this case, doctor, it is a very important part of my job!” Artie’s expression softened, “Look I promise to have my doctor in San Francisco take a thorough look at me okay?” Artie’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes but its effect was not lost on the man.

“All right, but you heed my warning…avoid over exertion and stay out of the sun.” The doctor clicked his tongue and shook his head as his patient scooped up the powder packets and quickly made his exit.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim thundered through the door to the telegraph office, startling the clerk. He looked up his face a mask of shock and horror. Colonel Richmond entered a second later breathless from trying to keep up with his younger and more agile agent. He showed the clerk his ID as Jim launched into his interrogation.

“You had a man in here a few days ago, dressed like a sailor.” Jim stated as he leaned on the counter, “I want to know what his business was.” The clerk shook under his glare.

“Ye..yes…I remember him. He…he was in a big hurry. Asked me to send a telegram for him and make it look like it came from Orland Park.” The clerk looked at Jim nervously.

“Yeah I got that telegram. What else can you tell me about him?” Jim asked.

“Well…he didn’t seem like he was feeling too good. He looked kinda peaked. He was talkin’ to himself too. Said something about a game…and his partner wouldn’t get him that easy.” Jim’s expression was crestfallen.

“What else can you remember?” Colonel Richmond asked.

“Just that he said he was heading south that’s all.” The clerk told them apologetically. Jim nodded and they turned to leave.

“Wait…he did ask me for a favor before he left. But you fellas bein’ federal men and all…I guess I could tell you. That man paid me plenty to tell you that.” Jim returned to the counter.

“What exactly did he say to you?”

“He said that a friend of his might be coming to look for him and I was to steer him away from the roads heading west. ‘Make sure you turn him south,’ the man said. Seemed real important to him that you went south.”

“What are you thinking, James?” Richmond observed Jim and he could see the wheels turning.

“Artie left the train and bought a horse. He’s planning to ride the rest of the way on horseback.” Jim snapped his fingers and took off again after a hasty thank you to the clerk. Richmond rolled his eyes and hurried after him.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie pulled his steed to a stop and dismounted. Rushing to the nearest brush, he lost the little bit of breakfast he had been able to keep down. Wiping his mouth on a handkerchief, he stood and looked around. Hearing the sound of rushing water he reached over to his saddle and removed his canteen. Artie headed for the stream, glad for a cool drink.

Leaning over and splashing the cool water on his face Artie began to fill his canteen. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and Artie drew his pistol but didn’t turn around. Looking into the water and using it as a mirror, he made a show of continuing to fill the canteen and waited. Something was approaching behind him. Staring into the water he was startled at the figure peering over his shoulder and he dropped the canteen into the stream.

“What the…” Artie spun around but there was no one there. Turning back and pulling his canteen out of the stream he headed back toward his horse.

“I must be losing my mind! I could have sworn I saw a panda staring at me. Artemus, old boy, you really need to hurry up and make better than good time getting to San Francisco…you need a vacation.” Artie muttered as he coughed and pulled his jacket tight around him as he mounted his horse and headed off.

WWWWWWWWWW

“I don’t like this, James.” Colonel Richmond was saying. “It’s not safe.”

“Sir, Artie’s my partner…I know him better than anyone. I think I know how he’s planning on getting to San Francisco and where he’s going this train would stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I realize that, but under the circumstances…” Richmond was trying to reason with him.

“Sir, we’ve been playing this all wrong. Artie thinks this is still a game right? So we play the game. Maybe we can smoke him out. He sees this train and he’ll go into hiding and we’ll never find him.” Richmond thought about this for a moment before he spoke.

“So what you’re saying is that if you take your horse and head out you’d stand a better chance of catching up to him?”

“Exactly, sir. Artie wanted me to leave the train behind…but he didn’t say I couldn’t send it on ahead.” Jim grinned like a mischievous schoolboy.

Jim rapidly laid out the rest of his plan and Richmond reluctantly agreed. Jim quickly saddled his horse and headed in the direction he thought Artie would have taken, hoping the tightening knot in his stomach would go away.

WWWWWWWWWW

The figures watched the fancy man make his camp and build a fire. They looked at each other as they heard him muttering to himself about reaching Idaho Falls in the morning. They smiled evilly as they noiselessly backed away and returned to their own camp. Hearing a noise Artie spun around and saw a bush shaking. Glancing over at his gun he knew he wouldn’t be able to reach it in time.

Sneaking over to the bush, Artie parted the brush and peered through…to find himself face to face with a small panda. Artie jumped back in surprise landing squarely on his backside. Scrambling to his feet, he looked back into the brush hesitantly. His eyes settled on the object he had seen before…a fallen birds nest with two pale blue eggs inside. Artie shook his head, I know I need a vacation!

Artie returned to the fire and poked at the burning logs idly, waiting for the coffee to brew. He hadn’t bothered to cook anything as his appetite seemed to have deserted him. How had he come up with this silly contest? And most importantly WHY? They had a month off and he could be spending it anywhere he chose and HE had suggested this game? Artie sighed and filled his cup with coffee, wishing he had thought to bring something stronger. The nights here in the lower part of the Rockies were chilly even for summer.

“James my boy, this is going to cost you!” Artie muttered to himself as he pulled his jacket tight and leaned back against his saddle, settling in with his coffee.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim slowed his horse and pulled his right leg up across his saddle. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a map and spread it out over his leg. Looking up he spotted Pompey’s Pillar. Billings isn’t too far, hopefully Artie isn’t either, Jim thought as he refolded the map and put it back in his pocket. Several minutes later Jim rode into town and dismounted in front of the Sheriff’s office.

“Sheriff, I’m James West, I believe you received my telegram?” Jim shook the man’s outstretched hand.

“Yes, I did, sir. And did some checking before you arrived, I’m afraid the news isn’t very good.” The Sheriff poured Jim a cup of coffee and waved him to a nearby chair.

“What do you mean?”

“I checked all the smaller towns…you know the dirt water ones.”

“And?”

“Nothing on anyone named Gordon. But, I just got back from Coulson and the doctor there tells me he tried to treat a man that might have been your friend.” Jim jumped up.

“What did he say? Was Artie okay?”

“All Doc told me was that he had advised your friend to stay there for a few days but he refused.” Jim pulled his map out and spread it on the Sheriff’s desk.

“Show me where this Coulson is.” The Sheriff pointed to a spot very near where they were now.

“Sheriff, I said to point out Coulson.” Jim remarked quickly losing his patience.

“I did. That is Coulson. They’ll be a part of Billings some day I’m sure but for now they like to think of themselves as their own little town. Anyway you ride over there and see ol’ Doc Nelson. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” Jim thanked the Sheriff and stopped at the telegraph office on his way out of town to send Colonel Richmond an update.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie’s fire had burned to nothing more than embers long ago but he hadn’t stirred. The sun was rising high in the sky and still Artie didn’t wake. His skin was flush with fever and he tossed and turned. Suddenly, he sat upright heaving for breath.

“What the…” Artie muttered to himself, “something unsavory is going on here. First I see pandas everywhere I look, and now this fever that can’t seem to make up its mind if it’s coming or going.” Artie shrugged his shoulders and reached for his canteen and a cup.

Mixing one of the powders the doctor had given him, Artie drank the concoction, making a face at the bitter taste. Looking at the embers from his fire Artie decided against staying long enough to heat up some coffee and instead he stowed all his gear and headed out toward Idaho Falls. I should only be about 20 or 30 miles from town, shouldn’t take too long to get there, Artie thought as he slowly pulled himself into the saddle.

He had only ridden a few miles when his path was blocked by several rather mean looking Shoshone braves. Artie stopped his horse and put his hands in the air. One of the braves nudged his horse forward and he searched Artemus. Reaching his hand in one pocket he came up empty.

When he reached for Artie’s inside pocket Artie flinched, he had forgotten to hide his official identification. The brave pulled the wallet out and opened it. Looking from the ID in the small leather case to Artemus he called back to the other braves. They exchanged glances as the brave tucked Artie’s ID in the waistband of his buckskin breeches.

“You will come with us.” The brave said surprising Artie with his fluent English.

“You speak pretty good English for a Bannock.” Artie tried to make polite conversation.

“I am Shoshone! Bannock…” the brave spit on the ground, “Bannock only deserve to die.” The brave pulled his arm up to strike Artie but was stopped by another brave.

“STOP! We let chief decide his fate.” The braves surrounded Artie and forced his horse toward their camp.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim entered Dr. Nelson’s office and was dismayed to find that he had been called away by a patient. The doctor had asked him to wait. Jim was beginning to get really steamed at having to wait yet again. Wait here…wait there, waiting, waiting and more waiting. He was pacing the office for the 100th time or so it felt when the outer door opened and an older man entered.

“Thank goodness you’re back, Doctor, I don’t think your floors can take much more of your visitor’s pacing.” The nurse nodded toward Jim who had come to a stop near the doctor.

“You’re Dr. Nelson?” Jim asked as he extended his hand, “I’m James West.”

“Oh, yes I received a telegram from your Colonel Richmond. Could you step into my office, please?” The doctor motioned toward one of the rooms.

They entered the office and Nelson motioned Jim toward one of the chairs in front of the desk. Jim shook his head, he didn’t intend to be here long enough to sit.

“Mr. West is it?” At Jim’s nod he continued. “I believe I saw the man you are searching for about three or four days ago. I tried to get him to wait for some tests I wanted to run on his blood. I really wish he had stayed.” The doctor shook his head sadly.

“I take it your tests found something?” Jim sighed.

“I’ll say I found something. Your friend needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible.” Jim’s head snapped up.

“I knew he was sick but I didn’t think it was anything more than just a cold.” Jim whispered.

“And you couldn’t have known at the time. Only a blood test can tell for certain.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Was your friend bitten by a bug recently? Perhaps a tick?”

“Yes, sir, as a matter of fact he was bitten by something when he was in Pennsylvania. About the same time he was bitten by a panda.”

“I’m afraid your friend has Relapsing Fever.” The doctor was moving around his office gathering up different items.

“Relapsing Fever, what’s that?”

“It came from that bite he had on his hand. It’s a tick bite, I’m guessing. Nasty stuff if it goes untreated. It starts out like an influenza of sorts. Shows up out of the blue…stays with you for a day or two then goes away just as quickly as it set in. Then in a few days it comes back. Each time it’s a little worse.”

“What will happen if my friend doesn’t get treatment?” Jim asked certain he didn’t want to know.

“The fever keeps returning along with the side effects. Eventually it will wear him down until he collapses.” The doctor handed Jim a bundle.

“What’s this?” Jim inspected the package.

“Just some things your friend will need. Mix a green envelope with water and have him drink it as soon as you can get to him. I’ve enclosed detailed instructions you can read later, I’m sure you want to be on your way as soon as possible.”

“Yes, doctor, I’d like to leave right away. And thank you doctor.” The doctor nodded as Jim paid him. He quickly left the office after getting the nurse to agree to send a telegram to the Colonel. Jim jumped on his horse and headed out after his friend with renewed vigor and determination.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie was prodded forward, the point of the spear in his back as he walked toward the chief seated just outside his tent. He had made no moves that could be interpreted as hostile when he had been stripped of his jacket, vest and gun belt. Repressing the shivers that were running up and down his spine, Artie stood as still has he could, his hands raised. The Chief stared at him, looking him up and down for several long moments before he spoke.

“Why you come here?” the Chief demanded.

“I’m merely passing through.” Artie told him.

“White man speak with forked tongue!” One of the braves called out.

“No! I would not lie Chief.” Artie pleaded his case. “I am known to many Indians as a man who tells no lies.”

“This says you are man from government.” The Chief gestured with Artie’s ID case, “Man in Washington does not listen to us. Why should we believe you?” Artie sighed.

“I tell you the truth. I came alone. I’m on my way to San Francisco. I mean no harm to anyone.” The Chief and his braves regarded Artie for a moment.

“You are a white man. White man only knows how to tell lies. Take him…tie him to cactus he will speak soon enough.” Artie gaped at the Chief and failed to notice the brave that had searched him earlier absently rubbing at a sore spot on his own hand.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames. He knew he couldn’t track his partner in the darkness and he cursed at having to wait yet again. Artie, you know I’ve never been long on patience, and right now you’re pushing what little I do have. Jim tossed the remains of his coffee angrily into the fire.

Knowing there was nothing more he could do tonight, Jim pulled the map out of his jacket and spread it on the ground. He had marked all the Indian reservations between Chicago and San Francisco as he tried to discover the path Artie was taking. Tracing the route they had taken so far the best Jim could figure was that Artie was heading right into the cusp between the Shoshone and the Bannock.

“Neither of those are tribes you want to be taking on by yourself, pal.” Jim muttered as he continued to study the map before finally turning in.

WWWWWWWWWW

[Artiespet]

The searing noon sun beat down on him drenching him in sweat. How long had he been tied up like this? Why didn’t they just finish him off and be done with it? Jim I hope you find me before they decide to scalp me, Artie thought as he tried to look at the sun and judge the time. As near as he could tell the Shoshone had tied him up here two maybe three days ago when they first captured him. Artie knew their interrogation methods were known to be brutal but this was walking a very thin line between brutal and insane. Artie ran his tongue over his swollen and cracked lips as his eyes fluttered and slowly closed.

Artie opened his eyes noting that night had fallen. Looking around, thankful there was abundant moonlight, he could see that he had been tied between what appeared to be two prickly pear cacti of some variety. The Shoshone had tied him in a way that had left him suspended by his arms only a few feet off the ground. His legs were bent at the knees and his feet had been suspended by rope from a cactus behind him.
His arms felt like lead weights, his shoulders were on fire as they were supporting the brunt of his weight. Artie pulled his arms testing the strength of the cacti. He was rewarded with a shooting pain as the ropes tightened pulling his body in all directions.

“Well, that’s enough of that!” Artie relaxed his grip.

He felt sick to his stomach but he had nothing to expunge. Artie realized he hadn’t eaten anything in the past couple of days. He looked out over the desert, wishing they had at least let him keep his vest and jacket. The nights were cold in the desert and this night was no exception.

Artie’s eyes scanned the terrain trying to plan an escape, if he could even pull one off, when he spotted movement among the cacti. Squinting in the pale moonlight, he watched the small puffs of dust billow up as the figure crept closer. He began to frantically pull on the ropes, alternating his gaze between the puffs of dust and his ropes.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim woke early and made sure the fire was properly doused after he had prepared himself a quick breakfast. He checked his saddlebags making sure the medicine for Artie was still safely tucked away. Then he set about packing up and setting out looking for Artie. Jim was thankful there had been no rain or wind as he quickly picked up Artie’s trail. It’s not like you to leave such a blaring trail, pal. I hope you’re doing okay. Jim thought as he plodded along, his eyes constantly scanning for clues.

WWWWWWWWWW

The chief and his braves closed in on Artie, wondering what would make the government man struggle so. The chief’s eyes followed Artie’s as he looked out over the desert, not seeing what the agent could be seeing that was so frightening. Artie’s frantic eyes met the chief’s confused ones.

“Aren’t you going to do something about that?” Artie asked gesturing with his head.

“Do something about what?” The chief sounded confused.

“There’s something out there, don’t you see it?” Artie asked as the chief nodded to two of his braves.

They moved stealthily toward the direction Artie was looking. The braves moved in and out among the cacti whispering to each other. Finally they returned to their chief and told him they found nothing. The chief glared at Artie.

“You take me for a fool, white man?” The chief demanded harshly.

“No…not at all. I wouldn’t…” Artie was quickly cut off.

“You tell us why you’re here. Maybe we let you go.” The chief addressed Artie with a glare.

“I told you I’m on my way to San Francisco. I’m just passing through.”

“White man lie.” The chief spat on the ground.

“Lie? Why would I lie about that?” Artie pled his case as his eyes scanned the area.

“White man only know lies. Treaty with white man broken many times. You have government paper, you work for government. You can not tell truth.” The chief told him sternly.

“Chief…yes I work for the government but I do not lie. I was on my way to San Francisco just like I told you.” Artie’s eyes caught sight of something moving through the cactus.

“Why you go this way to big city? Why you no take iron horse or coach?”

“Kill him now, chief! He lies!” One of the braves surged forward toward Artie.

“Stop,” The chief held up one hand and several other braves held him.

“You answer.” The chief looked again at Artemus.

“Chief…I told you. I was playing this game with my partner and I’m hiding from him.” Artie paused trying to catch his breath and failed to notice the brave rubbing idly at his hand.

“You play game? You take me for fool.” The chief rose and approached Artemus.

“Honest Chief, I am not lying. My partner and I…” Artie paused again as he noted movement in the cactus. “we…uh…were playing this game. It’s hard to explain. I bet him I could get to San Francisco before he could find me.” Artie looked pleadingly at the chief.

The brave that had been rubbing his hand suddenly clutched his head and dropped to the ground. One of the braves knelt down and touched his forehead. Pulling his hand back quickly he spoke to the chief in rushed tones looking and pointing at Artemus on occasion. The chief looked toward Artemus then cautiously approached him. Placing his hand on Artie’s forehead, the chief looked at him with a frown.

“White man brings sickness. We kill him!” Several of the braves moved toward Artemus.

“No, the shaman will heal him…if not then maybe you kill him.” Artie gulped audibly.

WWWWWWWWWW

“Boy, Artie you’re all over the place.” Jim was knelt down in the dirt inspecting some tracks he found. “Hopefully I’ll catch up to you today.” Jim stood and looked around before mounting Blackjack. He checked his map again then pulled the reins and headed out once again.

WWWWWWWWWW

The shaman approached Artie his hands raised high. In one hand he held a tubular pipe, long eagle feathers and the down from an eagle while the other hand contained a tobacco pipe, a bone, a rattle and some beads. He shook them at the heavens as he chanted and moved around Artemus.

Artie shook his head at the sight. I sure wish I hadn’t read that report on file in Washington about these people, Artie thought. And the past three days of just being tied up out here while they wait for me to crack is about to work. Right now I’d swear to shooting Lincoln if it would get me untied and out of this damned heat. He had to convince these savages that he was merely sick and not crazy before they completed the cleansing ritual. He didn’t even want to think about the possible outcome.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim rose again before the sun, wishing Artie hadn’t been able to get such a big head start on him. Three days at least was hard to make up and Jim was getting impatient, he felt he might be pushing his steed too hard. But these past three days I think I covered enough miles…I should be able to catch Artie today. Jim smiled at the thought.

Jim had been riding hard all morning and he reluctantly stopped to give Blackjack a much needed break. Scanning the countryside Jim thought he spotted movement on the top of the hill. Hiding himself in the trees, he took his spyglass out and looked toward the ridge.

“Damn!” He swore as he looked. “Bannock this far south either means a trading party or…” He didn’t want to lend his voice to say war party but the thought was there just the same.

He quickly put the spyglass back in his inside pocket and pulled Blackjack toward the brush. It would take him longer to reach Artie than he cared for, but Jim wasn’t about to lead a party of Bannock on a chase that could lead them in the direction of his partner.

WWWWWWWWWW

As the shaman continued his chanting, Artie was growing fatigued. His breathing was becoming shallow, sweat was pouring off him and his head started to pound. Through bleary and bloodshot eyes he looked past the shaman and again saw the puffs of dust being kicked up.

“Quick! Look…out there!” Artie gestured with his head, causing all eyes to look out over the cacti.

“You have to see that. Look! Right there…don’t you see it? There’s a panda bear behind that clump of cacti.” Artie pleaded with them to see what he was seeing.

The chief and the shaman studied him for several long and agonizingly silent moments. Finally the shaman broke the icy silence.

“White man has evil spirit trapped inside. Must get spirit out or white man infect whole tribe.” The chief looked from the shaman to Artemus and back to the shaman, wondering if the white man was worth all the trouble he seemed to have caused.

“What we do?” The chief asked.

“He need bleed…that get rid of evil spirit.” The shaman turned and spoke to several of the braves clustered there.

The braves cut the ropes binding Artie and he collapsed in a heap. They roughly grabbed him and dragged him toward a nearby prickly pear. When Artie realized what was about to happen he began to struggle. One brave tightened his grip on Artie’s arms and another hit him on the back of his head with the blunt side of his hatchet. As Artie slumped unconscious in their grip, they removed his shirt. When he was stripped to the waist, they placed him on a prickly pear. The shaman instructed them where to place him so that the cactus would prick him just where needed to drain the evil spirits from the white man’s body.

Several of the braves looked away as the stickers pierced Artie’s skin, one covering his ears to keep from hearing the sickening sounds the stickers made. Artie’s blood began to run down the cactus and dripped onto the sand, forming small puddles that dried instantly in the blazing heat of the day. One of the braves deposited Artie’s clothing in a pile beside him and they stepped back to watch the scene unfold.

“How long until the spirits go?” The chief wanted to know. “The Bannock will not want him if the spirits are not gone before they come.” No one seemed to notice that their prisoner had regained consciousness.

“Before the sun moves to the horizon.” The shaman answered. All eyes turned toward Artie when he began to laugh.

“Ha, ha, ha…he’s right behind you,” Artie snickered, “and you can’t seeeeee him.”

“What you speak of?” The shaman asked as he inspected Artie’s pupils.

“The great big black and white panda bear…he’s right behind you.” Artie grinned like a man possessed.

The shaman turned to look and the only thing he saw was the Bannock trading party. He pulled the chief aside and whispered in his ear occasionally one or the other of them would glance in Artie’s direction. After what appeared to be a rather heated, albeit hushed, conversation, the chief reluctantly nodded and acquiesced to the shaman’s directive.

Chief Wastawana had sent his usual band of braves to engage in the bi weekly trading that occurred between the Bannock and Shoshone. As the Bannock spoke virtually the same language as the Shoshone, the greetings were quickly dispensed with and the trading began.

One of the braves reached down and idly picked up Artie’s clothing and began to examine it. He searched every pocket, seemingly fascinated by the items he found there. When he came across the government ID he started chatting excitedly to his leader. The Bannock trading party leader and the Shoshone chief exchanged words and finally the chief seemed pleased as he gestured toward his prisoner and nodded. Artie’s ID was placed back in his pocket.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim had recognized the jacket one of the braves had searched as being one of Artie’s. He knew he had to find him, and quickly, if he had gotten into their hands. Jim stayed to the bushes watching their exchange until the Bannock finished their conversation and left chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

He followed the Shoshone warriors as they seemed the best bet for him to find Artie. If they had his jacket they might have him. Jim jumped on Blackjack and rode toward the braves keeping back far enough not to be spotted.

WWWWWWWWWW

“Chief want know when pale face be ready.” The biggest Bannock brave wanted to know as he gestured with his head toward Artie.

“Our shaman say by the time the sun reaches the horizon.” The Bannock brave shook his head.
“We need him now. Chief say we go back now.” The brave was adamant.

“Shaman say he not ready. You take now and he die our trade still good.” The chief spat. The brave seemed to ponder this for a moment.

“Fine bargain stands. We take him now.”

The Bannock braves headed over toward Artemus and the Shoshone braves scattered, glad to finally be free of the “touched” white man. They roughly pulled Artie off the cacti and one of the braves scooped up his clothes. Artie was dragged to a nearby horse and carelessly tossed over the steed’s back. The braves mounted their horses and one grabbed the reins of Artie’s horse and pulled it along as they headed for the Bannock camp.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim waited in the brush until night fell, keeping his eyes on the busy camp. He had searched the perimeter of the camp and had seen no sign of his partner. He has to be here somewhere I just know it, Jim thought as his eyes continued to scan the camp. He discovered which tent belonged to the chief and had made his decision. As soon as the camp quieted down he would sneak into the chief’s tent and find out where they were keeping Artie.

He slunk back to his horse and grabbed his canteen. He wouldn’t have long to wait, as it was almost dark now. Jim was glad as he was becoming irritated being forced to wait.

WWWWWWWWWW

When they reached their camp the Bannock braves unceremoniously dumped Artie in the corner of a large tepee as one would discard an old coat, not bothering to render any form of first aid to the myriad of cuts on his back. Their prisoner made no attempts to move, nor issued any sound as one brave kicked him in the ribs.

The braves held a powwow with their chief and he instructed them to try their healing ritual as this particular white man could be very valuable to them. He possessed information they needed and the chief was willing to do whatever it took to get it from him.

One brave left the tent and hurried to the squaws that were preparing their supper and issued the chief’s demands. One woman quickly set down the meal she was working on and began to prepare the items that would be required. Another woman took over her supper duties as the brave returned the main tent.

WWWWWWWWWW

[Artiespet]

As the camp finally settled down and Jim had seen where the Shoshone braves had secreted themselves to guard the camp’s perimeter, he quietly made his way toward the first Indian. Jim moved noiselessly to stand behind the brave. He quickly put his arm around the Indian’s neck and held on tight, covering the brave’s mouth to muffle his shouts, until the brave slumped in his grip unconscious.

Lifting himself up above the brush, Jim looked around and didn’t see any signs that his struggle with the brave had been noticed. He cautiously crept toward the next brave. Just as he was about to make his move the brave turned and faced him. Jim struck out with an open handed chop to the brave’s neck but it was blocked. The brave countered, landing a punch to Jim’s jaw that sent him sprawling backward.

As the brave jumped on top of Jim he pulled his knife. He held it high and Jim grasped the brave’s arm and they grappled for control of the dagger. Using both hands, Jim was finally able to wrestle the knife away from the Indian. He tossed the knife to the side and with a well placed chop to the neck, Jim dispatched his opponent. With the braves closest to the chief’s tepee out of the way, Jim made his way to the back of the chief’s tent.

Reaching up behind him he grabbed his knife from the pocket behind his neck. Working quickly, Jim cut a slit in the fabric, pulled it apart and stepped in. The chief lay on his side sleeping. Jim crept over to him and in one quick move rolled the chief over and covered his mouth to keep him from calling out.

“Shhh…I didn’t come here to hurt you. I only want to know what happened to my friend. Where is he?” Jim asked his glare proving he meant business, as he removed his hand from the chief’s mouth.

“White man plenty sick. He bring sickness to my people.” Jim’s grip on the chief lightened and he helped him sit up.

“I really am sorry about that, Chief…just tell me where my partner is and I’ll take him away. I have a doctor that can treat any of your people my friend gave his sickness to.” Jim’s expression had softened and he lowered his head as the chief stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“Your friend is no longer here.” Jim’s head snapped up, “We could do nothing for him.”

“What do you mean he’s not here? Where is he?” Jim wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

“We trade him. Bannock have food…we need food. They want white man…so we trade. We trade white man and his horse. We not want sickness here.” Jim searched the chief’s face as he sighed.

“Where can I find these Bannock? And I’ll keep my promise…as soon as I find my friend I’ll send a doctor to care for your people.”

“Bannock that way,” the chief pointed North, “they will not be so easily fooled.” The chief informed him as he lay back down and pulled the animal skin up over his shoulder.

Jim nodded and quickly and quietly made his way out of the Shoshone camp and back to where he had left Blackjack. Pulling on his reins, Jim led his horse away from the camp before he mounted his steed and rode North.

WWWWWWWWWW

The Bannock shaman approached Artie apprehensively. He poked at the still form crumpled in the corner with his walking stick. The white man didn’t move. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was shallow. The shaman bent over and opened Artie’s eyes. They were bloodshot and the whites of his eyes were tinted yellow.

The shaman called out to one of the women and told her to prepare a cleansing meal for the white man. The shaman pulled Artie toward the center of the tepee by the fire and selected several braves to participate in the cleansing ritual known as the Ghost Dance. The braves began to chant and dance in a circle around the fire and Artemus.

First one Indian woman approached the fire and held a tray of fruit above her head as the shaman passed a handful of bones and a piece of smoldering cloth over the tray. The woman lowered the tray and squatted on the ground near Artie’s head. She pulled a piece of fruit from the tray. It was at this time Artie regained consciousness.

“What the…” Artie shook his head to clear it and looked around. “You aren’t the same Indians I was with earlier.” Artie looked around curiously.

“Shhhh…eat, our shaman will heal you.” The woman told him as she put a piece of fruit to his mouth.

“No thank you I’m not very hungry.” Artie smiled politely.

“White man eat Ghost Dance feast. Feast, then braves dance…make you well.” The shaman spoke harshly as he continued to pass the smoldering cloth over Artemus.

Thinking it would be wise not to upset his ‘hosts’ Artie complied and ate the offered fruit. His stomach blanched as the sweet fruit merged with the acid in his stomach. It took all his resolve not to lose the food as he continued to force himself to chew and then swallow.

The woman picked up the remains of the fruit, rose and left as another took her place. This one carried a tray that contained a large, carved wooden bowl filled with steaming hot soup. Artie wanted to throw up the fruit he had just eaten and wasn’t sure he could keep this soup down, but the look from the shaman made him try.

Artie ate the soup and swallowed hard as the offending broth gave signs it wasn’t going to stay where he had put it. Looking around the tepee, his eyes grew big. All around him the Indians had left to be replaced by giant pandas walking upright and wearing Indian dress. Artie’s eyes darted from one figure to the next anxiously searching for something he could believe was real.

Rubbing his eyes, Artie looked at the shaman as he raised the burning cloth high and began to chant once again. This might be the one I’m looking for! Artie thought as he stared at the shaman. He barely noticed the young maiden who approached with a tray full of prepared raw fish. Artie mechanically opened his mouth when the food was brought to him, never taking his eye off the shaman. As he chewed and swallowed the food, Artie stared at the shaman as if he were seeing him for the first time. The maiden kept feeding him the raw fish dipped in herbs. This can’t be right; there must be something in that smoke, Artie thought as he watched the smoke waft upward toward the ceiling.

Finally Artie pushed the Indian maiden and her tray away and he approached the shaman. His eyes had taken on that glazed look Artie got when he was on to something big. The shaman stopped his chanting to see what the white man was up to. Artie reached forward and lifted the mask from the shamans face with one hand while the other cupped his chin.

“I gotta see if you got that tattoo, little fella” Artie mumbled as he tried to lift the shaman’s chin.

“Oh come on boy, don’t be so stubborn! Just let me see if ya got that tattoo from the zoo. If not I’ll leave ya’ alone but if you do then I can get you back to where ya belong.” Artie pried on the shaman’s chin once more.

This infuriated the shaman and reinforced his belief that the white man was indeed possessed by evil spirits. All this talk of panda bears…what are these panda bears? The shaman thought as he called out for several braves to bring Artie over to the fire.

WWWWWWWWWW

Jim pulled his steed to a halt and looked around. Cursing the darkness as he couldn’t use his spyglass, Jim dismounted and hid Blackjack in the deep brush. There were several tepees grouped together on one end of the camp with others scattered loosely around the area. He made his way to the edge of the encampment and was peering over the brush he was hiding behind when he felt something cold and sharp press up against his throat.

He froze as a hand reached around from behind him and hauled him to his feet. Jim felt his gun pulled from its holster as he was pulled to his feet and turned around to face two large Bannock braves. Jim smiled and put his hands in the air.

“Uh ha ha, guess you caught me.” Jim held the closest brave’s gaze as he was backed up by the point of the knife.

They were quickly joined by several other braves who grabbed Jim and began to roughly haul him toward the center of the camp. Suddenly Jim heard a man cry out…Artie! I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Jim pulled his arms forward, startling the braves holding him. The braves were yanked toward each other and Jim quickly pulled his arms out of their grasp. Grabbing their braided hair he crashed their heads together like coconuts, grinning evilly as they fell to the ground.

Now having a direction, Jim sprang into action. He jumped toward the advancing braves throwing himself at them. Knocking them down, he jumped up quickly and grabbed the nearest warrior and began punching him. The Indian fought back, blocking and returning Jim’s punches. They grappled with each other, vying for control until they stumbled and rolled and crashed into a nearby tent.

WWWWWWWWWW

Artie struggled against the iron grip of the braves as they pulled him toward the fire. To Artemus the heat radiating from the flames felt like the fires of Hades itself. He could feel the combination of the heat, his sickness, and awful mixture of food these people had forced upon him churning in his stomach and knew it would only be a matter of time before he heaved the contents of his queasy stomach onto his captors. The shaman pushed his way to stand in front of Artemus.

“Why you do that? Evil spirits deep in you. I get them out.” The shaman put his hand on Artie’s arm.

“Now see here. I’ve been poked, prodded, manipulated and manhandled enough to last a lifetime. I demand to speak to the chief.” Artie roughly pulled his arm back.

“You have evil spirits…need come out.” The shaman raised his stick in the air and passed it over Artie.

“Hey now stop that!” Artie wiped his hand across his brow and swallowed hard, “I have half a mind to leave this dump and send the army back after you.”

Artie pushed his way past the shaman and reached down and scooped up his belongings. As he straightened his vision swam, and Artie put a hand to his head. Moaning he stumbled and grasped the nearest Indian brave for support. The brave pushed him back away from him.

“Tha wash uncllad for buddy,” Artie was slurring his words as his world began to swim.

The braves became frightened by the white man’s odd actions and speech and they began to scatter. The shaman, not wanting to lose control of the situation, brought his walking stick down and struck Artie on the shoulder. Artie stopped and stared at the shaman in surprise and anger. He pulled his arm back and swung at the shaman striking him on the jaw. A nearby brave, acting on instinct, pulled his knife and plunged it into Artie’s right shoulder. Artie cried out in pain as the brave pulled the knife free and was poised to strike again when there was a commotion outside the tepee.

Jim and the brave came crashing through the entrance, a bumbling bundle of intertwined arms and legs as they fought. Artie shook his head and grinned.

“Jamesh my boy, wha’ a way ta’ make an entranch!” Artie called to his partner, “Looks like I lost.”

Jim glanced quickly at his partner. “The Colonel called the game on account.” Jim untangled himself from the now unconscious brave and headed toward another nearby brave.

“The Colonel? Uh oh he cawed the game…on count a what?” Artie wasn’t sure he wanted to know as he picked up the shaman’s walking stick and hit an advancing brave.

“On account of you, pal. That bite you got…was a tick bite. You have Relapsing Fever!” Jim was roughly grabbed by his lapels and pulled over the top of an Indian.

“Well can ya’ bea that!” Artie exclaimed as he swung at another brave.

“We haf ta git outta here, Jim,” Artie was slurring his words. Jim looked at his partner and knew he had to get the medicine he had brought into him as soon as possible.

The Indians closed ranks on the two agents and overwhelmed them. Jim looked over to see Artie going down under a pile of Indians as he tried to swing the stick. An Indian pulled the stick from Artie’s grasp and thumped him in the stomach. Artie groaned and went down under the sea of buckskin.

Jim pushed back hard and the braves fell away like bowling pins. As Jim tried to scramble toward his partner he grabbed a brave and pulled him off the pile. As Artie and Jim tried to fight off the seemingly endless group of Bannock, they failed to see the main flap of the tent open.

A sea of blue uniforms flooded the tepee, their guns drawn. They waded through the group, pulling the hostile Indians off the two agents. Soldiers crowded the tent quickly subduing the Indians. One young man helped Artie to his feet as Jim appeared on the other side. The braves were still trying to struggle when a loud thundering voice stopped everyone in their tracks.

“Atten…HUNH!” All eyes turned toward the tepee entrance.

Artie was swaying like a willow being bent by a heavy wind and Jim didn’t like the pale look on his face. A man entered the tent and stood surveying the scene before him. He turned to look at the agents and opened his mouth to speak when he was stopped by the oddest of sounds from one of the agents.

“UNGH…” Artie groaned as he tried to push past the man.

The man grabbed Artemus and steadied him. He tried to look him over but Artie was trying to pull away and rush outside. The man tightened his grip and Artie looked at him apologetically as he couldn’t hold back any longer. Jim covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head. This was NOT going to bode well for his partner. Artie gasped for air and made a strange sort of belching noise and promptly expunged the contents of his stomach onto the suit front of the man in front of him. As Artie slid to the ground the man stepped back. He glared at Jim as he handed over his handkerchief, at which the man merely glared.

“I hardly think that tiny bit of cloth will help with THIS, James.” Colonel Richmond groaned as he looked down at his now ruined suit.

Artie looked up into the face of his superior and his face lost one more shade of pink. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as he saw the damage he had inflicted upon his boss. The Colonel accepted a towel handed him and proceeded to clean as much of the offending substance off as he could.

“Mr. Gordon…” the Colonel regarded him sternly, “I see James has managed to find you.” Artie could only nod his head.

“How did you find us, sir?” Jim wanted to know.

“While you two were busy playing your little game I played my own version of cat and MICE.” Richmond grinned.

“Gentlemen, please escort Messrs West and Gordon to the wagon waiting outside. I need to have a word with the chief. IF he’ll come anywhere near me now.” Richmond motioned to several soldiers who grabbed Artie and Jim and scooped up Artie’s clothing and headed out. Both agents seemed to find the ground beneath them utterly fascinating on their way past the Colonel.

As they exited the tepee Jim looked at their mode of transportation and froze. He nudged his partner and they stared open-mouthed. There waiting to transport them back to the train was an Army prison wagon. Artie looked at Jim and swallowed audibly.
“Oh man we really did it this time didn’t we?” Artie whispered.

“Sure looks that way, Artie.” Jim replied as he helped his partner into the wagon.

[Artiespet]

Three days later—

The train had arrived in San Francisco ahead of schedule, much to Artie and Jim’s displeasure. There was a knock at the door and Jim rose to get it as Artemus was still wearing his dressing gown. When Jim turned back toward his partner he held a large flat box in his hands.

“What’s in this package, Artie?” Jim asked as he handed it to his partner.

“A peace offering for the Colonel…I hope.” Artie cringed as he accepted the package and placed it on the settee beside him.

Any further chatting was interrupted as the door opened and the object of their conversation entered the train. Both men rose, Jim helped Artie stand as his arm was lightly bound to his chest, and stood at attention. Colonel Richmond tried to suppress the smile that wanted to force its way onto his face as he removed his jacket and hat placing them on the coat rack in the corner.

He approached the agents and paced back and forth for several long and agonizing moments. Richmond stopped first in front of James, saying nothing just bouncing on his heels. Jim tried hard not to flinch under his glare. Then the Colonel moved to stand in front of Artemus. Jim worked hard to maintain his forward gaze only glancing quickly out of the corner of his eye.

Artemus sucked in a deep breath and held it as he tried to match the Colonel’s gaze. He knew he would be severely reprimanded and he was determined to take whatever he had coming with the utmost aplomb. Richmond turned his back to them and he covered his mouth so the laugh wouldn’t escape. When he turned back to face his agents, Jim and Artie were fidgeting. The Colonel cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Gentlemen, have a seat.” He motioned to the settee behind them and Artie gratefully collapsed onto it.

“We have a rather unique situation, gentlemen. On the one hand we have two agents who were on a well deserved vacation that decided to play a little game between themselves.” Artie cleared his throat and shifted uneasily under the Colonel’s look.

“And on the other hand we have two agents who undertook a very dangerous stunt that I foresee constituting a rather large problem should their fellow agents try this with their partners.” Jim and Artie exchanged a nervous glance.

“I see only one outcome…don’t you gentlemen?” The Colonel looked between his agents.

“Sir,” Artie began falteringly, “this wasn’t Jim’s idea. I take full…”

“You would do well to sit there and listen, Mr. Gordon. What you did was preposterous and outlandish behavior for a grown man…let alone an agent of the United States government. You could have been killed or worse!” Richmond thundered, his voice shaking the windows in the parlor car.

“Is there such a thing as worse than dead Jim? Tell Great Aunt Maude I’m coming!” Artie whispered out of the corner of his mouth, Jim somehow managed to keep the smirk from making its way onto his face.

“Your Great Aunt Maude wouldn’t even think about helping you out of this mess you’ve created. But as luck would have it I do have a solution. One that should make an example of you two for every agent to come down the pike for generations to come!”

“Before you kill…er…mete out my punishment, sir, there’s something I’d like to give you.” Artie reached for the box beside him and presented it to the Colonel.

“What’s this…a peace offering, Mr. Gordon? Or perhaps a bribe?”

“What? A bribe? Never sir!” Artie protested.

“I should hope not.” Richmond remarked as he opened the package to reveal the new suit.

“I…uh…figured it was the least I could do. I heard they had to burn your other one and…uh…well I’m sorry.” Artie was truly apologetic.

“Yes, well thank you for the suit. Now where were we? Oh yes your punishment.”

The Colonel turned and walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. Swirling the amber fluid around the snifter, he took his time getting to the heart of the matter as he was greatly enjoying seeing his top agents squirm for a change. When he turned back around Jim swallowed hard, not liking the evil grin on his commander’s face.

“I’ve had a long talk with the President and we decided we needed to come up with a punishment that was both fitting and one that would send a harsh message to your fellow agents.”

“Artie, do we still have those Eskimo parkas, something tells me we’re going to need them.” Jim whispered and Artie quickly shushed him while Richmond glared.

“As I was saying…the President and I have decided your fate. I believe the terms of your little errant game were that the winner would be treated to a lavish supper and tickets to the opera for him and a lady of his choosing…am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the agents replied in unison wondering where he had come into that information.

“Good. Now that stipulation will be upheld…” The agents exchanged glances and grinned.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad after all huh Jim?” Artie grinned.

“However, there has been a change in the roster.” Jim and Artie looked at each other then turned quizzical expressions toward their boss.

“The supper reservations will be kept as well the deluxe box at the opera. But you two will be safely tucked away here on the train. The President and his wife will be joining me and my wife for an evening of dining and entertainment…to be completely paid for by you two.” Richmond could no longer hide his grin and he chuckled as he watched their jaws crash to the floor.

“But sir, you can’t do that!” Artie was saying, “I was supposed to take Danielle…she’ll be…” Artie was interrupted.

“She’ll be enjoying herself immensely as will Mr. West’s intended date for the evening. It’s not every day a young lady is invited to dine with the President of These United States and on someone else’s dime.” Artie looked at Jim who he noted had turned as white as a ghost.

“Artie can you cook up something to turn iron into gold? I think we’re gonna need to sell the train!”


EPILOGUE


Jim approached his partner carefully, knowing Artie was still sore about not being able to take Danielle to supper and the opera as planned. He cleared his throat and smiled as Artie looked up.

“Something I can do for you James?” His partner asked.

“Well, I kind of feel like this was my fault. I’ll pay the tab for the night, Artie.” Jim waved Artie’s protests away, “No…I want to. Oh this came for you today.” Jim handed him the small package.

“Hmm, it’s from Ozzy Sievert. Wonder what he sent.” Artie carefully unwrapped the package and peeked in side.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense what is it?” Jim asked as Artie handed him the package as he read the card he had found on top.

“Since you seemed so fascinated by my panda I had one made for you after I heard about your predicament. I have been told if you place it on the mantle it will bring good luck.” Artie rolled his eyes and tossed the card onto the table.

“Well if that don’t beat all.” Artie sighed.

“Yeah, about those panda bears…did the doctor tell you why you kept seeing them everywhere?” Jim asked as he looked out the window and then proceeded to head for the door to the platform, Artie watching his every move.

“He…uh…he said it was probably hallucinations brought on by the fever. The panda was carrying the…uh…the tick and when I started having the hallucinations I was probably thinking about pandas and…Jim just what are you doing?” Artie’s curiosity got the better of him.

“I took the liberty of ordering dinner brought in, Artie. The Colonel said we couldn’t go out but he didn’t say anything about having food brought in.” Jim grinned wider than the Cheshire cat as he opened the door and beckoned the deliveryman to enter.

“Awww Jim…” Artie groaned, “You are one cruel man. You know I have a weakness for Chinese food but this is just cruel.” Artie gestured toward the basket the man had put on the table while Jim paid him and gave him a handsome tip. Emblazoned on the side of the basket was a large logo of the restaurant…The Bamboo Panda.

WWWWWWWWWW

“Douglas, you were telling us what the doctor said about Artemus.” The President prodded the Colonel wanting him to continue.

“What…oh yes. Doctor Evans has thoroughly checked Artemus and with the proper medication and rest he’ll be fit for duty in about three weeks or so.” Richmond passed menus around the table as he spoke.

“So where are the men tonight then?” Danielle looked over the top of her menu to see her Godfather looking at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, they are serving out their punishment aboard the train. They’ll not be joining us this evening.” Richmond saw the stunned look on Danielle’s face and smiled.

“Yes, those boys need to be taught a lesson…” Grant spoke as he perused his menu, “and we came up with a punishment guaranteed to ensure no agent tries a stunt like this again.” The President winked at her.

“Oh dear Lord, what did you do to them, Uncle?” Danielle looked askance at Richmond.

“Well…part of their punishment is that they must not leave the train for the next three weeks.” Danielle gasped.

“What is the rest of their punishment or would I rather not know?”

“Ladies…look over your menus well…” Richmond told them as he seemed to ignore Danielle’s question, “order anything you like…anything at all. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a bottle or two of Chateau Rothchild 1846.” He looked at the two young ladies seated next to the gentlemen’s wives.

“Go on ladies…order anything you’d like money is no object tonight. This entire evening is for you two. James and Artemus can’t be here with you ladies so they asked us to stand in for them.” He snickered and Grant hid behind his menu.

“Yes, ladies order anything you like and if you don’t like it order something else. The entire evening is being financed by James and Artemus.” Grant could hold back no longer and he roared with laughter.

“Oh my stars!” Danielle said and thanked her lucky stars she was not on her Godfather’s bad side.

The End