THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT

By Andamogirl

References to the following episodes; "The Night of the Juggernaut". (This episode took place production-wise after "TNOT Avaricious Actuary," where Ross Martin broke his leg. Thus the script was rewritten where Artie's leg was broken in the opening scene, accounting for his wearing the cast in later scenes. A double was used for the scenes where Artie had to walk around) and "The Night of the Gypsy Peril."

References to my stories called "The Night of the Comanche Moon" and "The Night of the Mexican Imposture", explaining how Artemus got a tattoo on his back. References to other stories of mine, "The Night of the Trek Among the Stars", "The Night of the Ice Cold Death", "The Night of the Werewolf". You can read "The Night of the Outlaw" too in which Artemus's mom appears for the first time in my stories along with Dr. Harry Clover who is sharing her life.

Gordon: Did you have to ruin my cake?

West: It was either your cake or my reputation.

The Night of the Infernal Machine

Emma Valentine: Which do you prefer? Blondes, brunettes, or redheads?

Jim: Yes. All three.

The Night of the Vicious Valentine

Artie: How'd you like my coyote?

Jim: That was a coyote?

Artie: I had three answering calls from females proposing marriage.

The Night of the Gypsy Peril

WWW

TEASER

Washington DC, in the Wanderer

In the evening

In the galley

Sitting on a stool, his crutches leaning against the dresser, Artemus Gordon pushed up the sleeves of his yellow shirt past his elbows and tied his flowery apron behind his back. Then he began the task of kneading out the piece of dough he had previously covered with flour – across the floured table.

Sitting down on a stool too, in front of the older man, James West was slowly peeling a couple of white onions, his eyes stinging and teary.

Behind him there was a steaming pan of water placed on top of the hot stove.

Everything was calm, but not silent in the small galley. The water was boiling, the fire was crackling in the stove, Artie was pummeling the dough and Jim was peeling an onion - and there was a tempest outside. The blizzard was howling and gusts of snow were hitting the train mercilessly.

Looking up at his partner who had just expertly spread the dough with a rolling pin, Jim asked, "Are you sure that the President is going to come, Artie? There's a raging blizzard bearing down on Washington you know? It's feet deep in snow outside with no sign of the snow stopping." Then he wiped his wet eyes with the back of his calloused hand.

Draping the dough into a pie plate, Artemus nodded. "I know, Jim. But nothing can stop President Grant when he decides to do something, not even a snowstorm, you and I saw that during the war." He smiled. "Besides he knows that I'm going to cook something delicious for him tonight – and I'm proud to say that he loves my cuisine a lot. He wouldn't want to miss this dinner for the world."

Holding a still intact onion in his left hand, Jim said, "You didn't tell me what the menu is and what we are preparing Artie," and then he cut the top of the vegetable.

Nodding, Artemus pivoted on his rotating stool. "You're right, I was so busy that I forgot." He picked up a plate from the work surface containing pieces of smoked bacon lardons and using a knife, he started to dice them. "For the hors-d'oeuvre we'll start with a French potato, onion and bacon pie, in French it's called 'une tarte aux pommes de terre, aux oignons et aux lardons'. It's delicious, then we'll have a beef Stroganoff - my mom's recipe - with pasta as the main course and we'll end dinner with an apple pie for the dessert. And I didn't forget the wines. We have a lot to do! Come on Jim, time flies! Chop! Chop!"

Frowning, Jim stopped, halfway through peeling the onion; and said, "Your menu doesn't sound like something very elaborate… You have invited the President of the United States for dinner, Artie. He expects no ordinary dishes."

Turning around again, Artie took a frying pan from a drawer and then placed the pieces of smoked bacon in it. "Au contraire. Grant is the President, yes, but in his heart, he's still a soldier and he loves 'simple' cuisine, like pork and beans. My menu is therefore perfect for him." Using one crutch, he slowly moved toward the stove and sat the frying pan on the very hot top, beside the pan of boiling water. The pieces of smoked bacon almost immediately started to sizzle and gently fry. Looking at Jim roughly peeling the onion he was holding, on the verge of crying, he added, mockingly, "Using a knife on vegetables is not your forte, you prefer throwing it at things but a lot more at people "But you are perfect at everything else."

Dropping another peeled onion on a plate, Jim shook his head. "Thank you. You're right. I prefer using knives against our enemies."

Artie chuckled and expertly cut the freshly peeled onions into small chunks above the frying pan where they joined the pieces of smoked bacon going crispy.

He submerged a few potatoes in the boiling water and then said, "Maybe you could whisk the eggs, Jim. Take four of them."

Smiling Jim stood and bowed his head, "Yes, Master. Your wish is my command."

Using a wooden spatula, Artemus mixed the bacon and the caramelizing onions, "Just call me Chef, that's enough – kitchen boy." Then he added a pinch of pepper.

Jim took four eggs from the basket sitting on the worktop and the whisk from the drawer of the dresser. He cracked each egg dumping the contents into a large terracotta mixing bowl.

Suddenly there was an unexpected knock at the door of the galley and Ulysses S. Grant entered the small room, smiling broadly. "Mmm, it smells good. Hello boys," he said.

Both men stared with wide, surprised eyes as the President of the United States walked in, then Jim said, "Good afternoon Sir."

Reddening with utter embarrassment Artemus said, "Mr. President? But-but nothing's ready yet…" Then he started to fret "I'm still working on the hors-d'oeuvre. I was expecting you at 7 PM. It's only 5 PM! I still have so many things to do!"

President Grant raised his left hand in a peaceful gesture. "Calm down Artemus. I came here earlier because of the snow tempest. I didn't want to be stuck at the White House because of the snow. I left before the roads became impassable. I wouldn't miss this dinner for the world." He spotted Artie's crutch, frowned in worry and asked, "How is your leg, Artemus? Are you still in pain?"

Setting the frying pan aside on a trivet sitting on the table, a relaxing Artemus replied, "Much better Sir. The pain is gone. I can walk better, but I still need my crutches because it's not easy to move with a plaster which goes from the foot up to the thigh." He sat down on his stool and started slicing the washed mushrooms going with the recipe for the beef Stroganoff. "Dr. Henderson should remove it at the end of the week – after four weeks of immobilization of the leg."

Grant nodded in appreciation. "It's good news."

Standing, Jim offered his stool to the other man, "Take my place Mr. President, please." Then he moved beside Artemus and reached out toward the terracotta bowl containing the non-whisked eggs. He explained, "I was going to whisk the eggs."

Taking his place on the stool in front of Artie, Grant chuckled and placed his hand on it. "Let me. I think I can handle it from here." And he did it.

Artie poured some double cream into the whisked eggs before seasoning it with a dash of pepper and salt and then he added a few pieces of thyme.

Grant used a large wooden spoon to stir the mixture and then asked, "Are you preparing a potato pie with bacon and onions?" He saw Artie nod and grinned. "I love it!"

Happy to hear that, Artie reddened with pleasure this time and he said, "Then we'll eat beef Stroganoff and ends the dinner with an apple pie."

The President stopped stirring the mixture and said, "It's perfect! And I suppose you chose a few good wines to accompany all that." Then he tapped the spoon he was holding a few times against the edge of the bowl before setting it down on the table.

Opening the mini refrigerated cellar Artemus said, "Of course I did, Sir." And he pulled out two bottles of wine he set down on the worktop. "This dry white wine with its pale yellow color has a very pleasant, delicate bouquet and subtle aromas and it will go down wonderfully with the potato pie with bacon and onions – or 'tarte aux pommes de terre, lardons et oignons'. It's a French recipe, so we'll eat it while drinking a French dry white wine produced in Burgundy. I chose a bottle of Chablis Grand Cru, it's a French whine dating from 1830. It's very rare." He paused, then he took the squat bottle of red wine enclosed in a straw basket, "This is a bottle of Chianti produced in the Chianti region, in central Tuscany, Italy, dating from 1840. It's pure nectar!"

Grant smiled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but beef Stroganoff is a Russian dish of sautéed pieces of beef served in a sauce with sour cream… It's not very Italian."

Smiling too, Artie replied, "But pasta is, Sir." Looking at the pan of boiling water in which the potatoes had been immersed for a few minutes, he said, "Could you drain the potatoes Jim, the colander is in the cupboard above the sink. Then pour cold water on them to cool them, thank you."

Saluting, Jim said, "Yes Chef!" and then he moved toward the stove.

Grant grabbed the rest of the still intact mushrooms and using a knife he rapidly chopped them, then he asked, Artie. "How can I help now?"

Placing the plate of cooled potatoes on the table, Jim said, "You can help us peel the potatoes, Sir. It will be faster if there are three of us doing it."

The President nodded loving the idea. "Let's do it!" He said. "It's a nice change from my duties and it's refreshing after a whole day of paperwork."

The three men began peeling the tepid potatoes and then, once it was done, Artie cut them into thin slices with surgical precision.

He put half of the potato slices in an ovenproof dish and then put half of the crispy bacon and the caramelized onions over it.

He repeated this with the rest of the potatoes and bacon and onion. After that he poured the mixed whisked eggs and cream over the potatoes.

He suddenly snapped his fingers! "Oh boy! I forgot the cheese! There's a plate with some pieces of mozzarella di bufala behind you on the work plan, Jim."

Placing layers of Italian cheese on top of his hors-d'oeuvre, Artie said, "Now it needs to go in the oven for 30 minutes."

30 minutes later the hors-d'oeuvre was ready and steaming. Ulysses S. Grant couldn't help but smell the delightful aroma of the French potato, onions and bacon pie. The mozzarella had melted on the top and had a caramel color.

His mouth watering in anticipated pleasure he asked, "Can I taste it?" as Artemus cooking mitts protecting his skin, he placed the steaming dish on a trivet.

Artie shook his head, "Not now Sir. It's too hot. Later…"

Seeing that Grant was disappointed Jim proposed. "Put it on another plate and place it outside, on the rear platform, protected from the snow. It will be cooled in an instant."

Grant nodded. "Good idea."

Finding the idea good too, Artie just did that, and a few minutes later he could offer the President a cooled piece of his potato pie with bacon and onions.

The President took a bite, almost swallowing it in one mouthful. Then he moaned in near ecstasy, licking his fingers, "Dear God!" He let out.

Artie beamed.

WWW

Later

Before dinner

Sitting on the twin couches of the parlor car, Jim, Artemus and the President were sipping a glass of Byrrh (Artie's latest foreign liquor acquisition), which was a French aromatized wine-based aperitif, chatting about the last gossip of the Capital – when a knock on the door made the three men look to the door, the decorated glass panel being covered in sheets of ice.

Surprised, like his companions, Artie said, "We are not expecting anyone." Then he shifted into special agent protection mode.

Standing, Jim proposed, "Maybe it's someone from the White House Sir?"

Ulysses S. Grant's eyebrows drew closer together as he was upset at the idea. "I hope not. I made myself clear before leaving the White House. I didn't want to be disturbed while being here with you – I haven't even started dinner."

Grabbing the gun he kept under one of the cushions – just in case something bad happened – Artie pointed it at the door ready to defend the POTUS.

Hearing Artie cocking the hammer back on the Colt he was holding, Jim opened the door… ready to use the Derringer hidden in his sleeve if necessary, revealing a silhouette bundled up in a thick, heavy furred coat, furred hat, furred mittens and wooly scarf. Outside the ice-cold air was full of thick, heavy snow, the strong wind tossing it every which way.

He grabbed one arm and roughly pulled the visitor inside before hurriedly closing the door as swirls of frigid air and big, fat, snowflakes entered the room.

Using a crutch to stand, Artemus moved in front of Grant to shield him with his body and pointed his revolver at the uninvited guest. "Raise your hands!" He ordered.

Removing her furred mittens first, then unwinding the thick wooly scarf from around her nose and mouth, a woman's voice said, "That's not a nice way to welcome an old friend, Artemus." Then she loosened it enough so she could tug it down around her throat. "Hello brother!" She added with a smile, intensely blue eyes crinkling at the corners, while she was removing her chapka, revealing short raven hair.

Lifting his eyebrows, Jim was stupefied. "Brother?" then he furrowed his brow, puzzled. Artemus was an only child. "What?"

His eyes opening wide in great surprise, Artemus exclaimed, "Great jumping balls of Saint Elmo's fire! Moira!" Then he lowered his gun.

Moira chuckled as she dropped her mittens, scarf and chapka on the work table. "Hello Artemus., it's good to see you I missed you." Then she took off her coat – revealing a brown bolero jacket pantsuit, white shirt and black string tie and then bowed her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. President. I was looking for you. They told me at the White House that I would find you here tonight."

Ulysses S. Grant stood and smiling, headed toward the lovely woman and taking her hand, pressed a light kiss on top of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again too, Miss O'Donnell. I didn't know you were back in Washington and that you were Artemus's friend."

Moira O'Donnell winked at Artie. "Well, we've known each other for a long time, Mr. President. We are childhood friends – well, more like brother and sister. My parents had a house in Green Hill. We used to be neighbors and best friends, until we were 14. Then my parents and I moved to Chicago. But we stayed in contact since that time and we see each other from time to time." Her brow crinkled with concern when she noticed Artie's plaster behind his cut open right pants leg and his crutches. "You broke your leg? What happened?"

Smiling Artie waved a hand. "Oh, it's nothing. A large box fell on my right leg during a mission and my tibia was fractured. I'm fine, Moira. It's not – was not a complicated fracture. I healed nicely. I didn't even need surgery. Dr. Henderson will remove the plaster at the end of the week. Drop your clothes on the back of the chair and join me, please."

Moira folded her furred coat on the back of the chair as a gust of wind rattled the glass-paneled door. "I had never been here before… " And made a quick survey of the comfortable and elegant parlor car. "Hmm, it's very nice and comfortable. You described the train in your letters but you never invited me to visit the Wanderer, Artemus. Tsk! Tsk!"

Moira joined Artemus and the two of them hugged. Then Artie kissed Moira's' brow. "And when? You're always going away somewhere and Jim and I are always traveling throughout the country. For us to meet is almost a miracle!"

Miss O'Donnell brushed her fingers along Artemus's temple, gently tucking back the lock of dark hair she found there. "I missed you."

They pressed their foreheads together. "I missed you too," Artie said.

Pause.

Outside the furious and howling blizzard was battering the train. Inside, in the galley it was calm; warm and it smelled good.

Feeling a little forsaken, Jim cleared his throat loudly and then said, "Hi! My name is James West and I'm Artemus's best friend and partner."

Looking at Jim Moira said, "I know who you are, Mr. West. Artemus told me everything about you in his letters. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

His jaw hanging low, Jim felt his heart speed up as he was instantly smitten. Moira O'Donnell had the most incredible light blue eyes he had seen in his life and they robbed him of his breath. He smiled broadly, seductively. "And it's a pleasure to meet you." Looking at Artemus, now frustrated, he added, "Why didn't you ever tell me about Miss O'Donnell, Artie? I would have liked to meet her earlier."

In response Artie sent a meaningful look to his partner. "To treat her like one of your conquests? A dinner, a dance and then…" He paused, reddening, embarrassed to say 'a night of wild sex' in front of the POTUS and Moira and skipped it. "No way! Moira is like a sister to me. I never told you about her in order to protect her from Jim - Don Juan – West, to prevent her from being seduced and then dumped in the morning after breakfast and a goodbye kiss, and of course, from having her heart broken."

Feeling offended, Jim scowled and he replied, "Says the man who attracts all the lovely young women when he's in the Capital – and I'm sure you don't just have tea with them and regale them with the stories of our adventures…"

Raising a hand in a 'make peace' gesture, the President said with a fatherly disapproving look, "That's enough boys! I don't like it at all when you quarrel with each other… and don't forget there's a woman here. Show some respect."

Both Artie and Jim looked at the President sheepishly and said, "I'm sorry, Sir," in a chorus.

Moira laughed good-naturedly. "Boys are boys, Sir. I don't mind at all. All my companions in exploration are men, so I'm used to hear them talk about things that a woman shouldn't hear, like touting their sexual intercourse with dozens of women, and believe me, it's a lot worse than what Artemus and Jim just said. Actually they sound like choir boys in comparison."

Changing of subject of conversation, Artie asked his childhood friend, "Can I offer you a glass of Byrrh, Moira? It's a French aperitif."

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Artemus."

Jim proposed, "A cup of coffee perhaps?"

Moira shook her head again. "No, nothing, thank you."

Gesturing to the closest couch Grant said, "Please seat down Moira and tell me about your latest adventure in the Himalaya Mountains."

Moira caught Jim's astonished look and explained, "I'm an explorer and scientist with specializations in both anthropology and zoology. I left my post at the New York University to travel around the world, searching for fabulous animals, creatures and monsters." She took her place beside the President; waited for Jim and Artie to take their place on the couch opposite and then she continued, "I was part of an international expedition trying to find the famous Yeti; or Abominable Snowman. My companions and I spent two months in the kingdom of Nepal, but unfortunately we didn't find it… " And she grimaced with spite.

Jim nodded. "I remember reading articles about it in the Washington Chronicle – and in other newspapers. There has been a lot of publicity on this particular issue all over the world. Now I can put a face to the famous professor O'Donnell."

Upset to hear that, Moira briefly glared at Jim then, she continued, "One day we found the Yeti's footprints and our local guides informed us, they belonged to the creature they call 'metoh-kangmi'. Metoh" translates as "man-bear" and "Kang-mi" translates as "snowman". We followed the Yeti's footprints toward a huge chasm in the ice but we couldn't go further because of it. That chasm didn't stop the creature as we spotted its footprints in the snow on the other side. it had probably climbed up there or jumped… By the time we were around the chasm, a terrible storm came up and we lost track of it. We headed back toward our base camp further down the valley. The blizzard didn't stop for three weeks after that so we decided to leave. Our expedition was over." She turned toward Grant and added, "I have gathered precious intelligence during my journey to the kingdom of Nepal Sir, and on the way back too. I will send you my report as soon as possible." Looking at a puzzled Jim, she said, "I also work for the Secret Service, occasionally."

Stunned Artemus said, "I didn't know that." Then he frowned a bit upset. "I thought we had a pact Moira. No secret between us."

Moira stood, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on his cheek, then she took a step back and said, "I know, I was so busy I completely forgot to tell you. Please forgive me."

Smiling Artemus said, "You are forgiven."

She gave him a peck on the tip of his nose to thank him and then she took her place back on the couch beside the President of the United States.

Grant explained. "Miss O'Donnell travels all around the world for her job, so I asked her if she wanted to work for the Secret Service to gather information when she's abroad, and she accepted. It's been two years now." He glanced at Moira and asked, "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

Moira shook her head. "No, Sir, not yet." And her stomach chose that exact moment to growl it needed to be filled, pronto. "And I'm hungry."

Using one crutch to stand, Artemus said, "Good! You're invited to dinner. I prepared enough food for four persons, now excuse me, I have to see if my beef has stewed enough and not burnt." He left the room on his crutches to enter the galley shortly after.

Moira get a waft of a delicious smell and found her mouth watering.

Intrigued, Jim asked, "May I know why you are here tonight? It has to be urgent and important, otherwise you could have waited for the blizzard to pass."

Moira nodded, "You're right it's urgent and important. I wanted to see the President and Artemus and you too. So I killed two birds with one stone." She paused and explained, "A friend of mine Liz Hudson living in the region of the Columbia River's mouth in Washington Territory sent me a letter two weeks ago thinking I was in Washington. In that letter she told me that she was collecting mushrooms in the forest behind her house when she saw… Bigfoot! I know, it's incredible! But when it saw her, it ran off into the trees. It was far away from her but she couldn't miss such a large, black-brown-haired, muscular and upright-walking, ape-like being. She headed where she had seen it and she saw, in the mud, footprints, almost human but impossibly large. I came here to ask the President to authorize Artemus and you to take me there. I need to find this creature as soon as possible while it's still in the vicinity! With this train I can be there in a few days, while with a passenger train and stagecoaches, a month!" She paused again, and excited, she added, "No one has ever captured Bigfoot – for now. I want to be the first one to capture it!"

Rubbing his chin, a skeptic Jim asked, "Is she sure it's Bigfoot Miss O'Donnell? It could be a very large grizzly bear."

Moira shook her head. "No, Liz's description of that creature matches Bigfoot's." She paused. "It exists you know, like the Yéti in Himalaya."

Jim asked, "How do you propose to capture it?"

Moira looked at Artie. "Put it to sleep using a dart filled with a powerful sleeping drug. Artemus has a tranquilzer rifle as he calls it, I know."

The President took Moira's hand in his, pressing it warmly. "You have my authorization Moira. The Wanderer and both Jim and Artemus are at your service. Jim will be at your side to find this creature. Artemus will stay in the train because of his leg still being on the mend."

Jim cringed. Artemus won't like that. "Sir, we should reach Washington Territory in a week or so, not before. By then Artemus's leg will be healed – and his plaster removed. I'll do it. I promise you he won't do anything too strenuous."

Grant nodded. "Alright, Artemus will come too, as you can't be separated from your partner, you're like twins."

Artemus left the galley and entered the parlor room, holding a serving plate on which he had placed his potato pie with bacon and onions – with a piece missing. "A table!" He called.

Tbc.