The Night of the Guinea Pigs
Artemus Gordon sat in his lab in front of his chemistry table. He held a small green ball in up to his eye for inspection. Content, Gordon put the ball aside and reached for his notebook. The door squeaked open but he didn't look up.
"Hey Jim, I've just cooked up a new batch of knockout bombs for ya."
"Is that so Mr. Gordon? Why don't we test one out right now?"
The voice was familiar but it didn't belong to his partner. Instead it belonged to the tiny evil genius, Dr. Loveless. Artemus made a grab for his revolver but Voltaire was quicker and pinned the agent's arms behind his chair.
"That wasn't a very nice way to greet an old friend, Mr. Gordon," Loveless said as he picked up a green ball and rolled it in his hand.
"No, that's how I greet intruders," Artemus responded snidely then gasped as Voltaire jerked his arm up.
Loveless put on a shocked air, "intruder? I? Here I am, an old friend dropped by to surprise you and I even offered to help you test your experiment." Loveless held up the green ball in front of Gordon.
Artemus struggled again and received another upward jerk to his arm. He emitted a low growl as he tried to turn his head to see Voltaire but that earned him a rough shove from a huge hand on his head.
"Your kerchief, Voltaire," Loveless backed up and drew his neck kerchief over his nose and mouth. "Now Mr. Gordon, you'll get to experience your handiwork first hand." Loveless threw the ball down at Gordon's feet.
Artemus tried to hold his breath as he watched the gray smoke rise. If I don't pass out, then I'll have to make the formula stronger, he thought to himself. Suddenly, Artemus had the wind knocked out of him by Voltaire's fist in his kidney and he was forced to breathe in the fumes. His head bobbed and he struggled to not lose consciousness but he lost the fight and his eyes rolled back then finally, the world went black.
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Returning from a trip to town, James West rode his black stallion up to the Wanderer. He frowned upon seeing the back parlor door wide open and no partner in sight. Quietly, Jim dismounted from his black steed and wrapped the studded reigns loosely around the handrail. He then and drew his Colt .45 and cautiously entered the car. Nothing was out of place in the parlor or the kitchen or the bedrooms. Stealthily, Jim worked his way towards his partner's lab. That door too, was open and he entered cautiously. On the work bench, one of the beakers was knocked over, making a slimy mess on the table and floor and the Bunsen burner was still on. Obviously Artie either left in a rush or was removed from the train against his will. Jim turned the burner off and continued his searched into the stable car. Mesa, Artie's mare was still in her stall while there was no sign of his partner. Perhaps there were tracks in the grass outside of the train which he could follow. With his pistol still raised, Jim silently walked back into the parlor. He noticed a small decorative box on the table by the fake set of books that was certainly not there when he had gotten back. Jim looked around the car with his gun still raised but finding no other clues, he went outside. There was no sign of any tracks and the engineer and his crew said they hadn't seen anyone or anything so Jim went back into the parlor and over to the little box. He slowly lifted the lid with the tip of his pistol. Music started to play and then two familiar voices start singing. His face went stone cold and he dropped the lid back down. James West holstered his Peacemaker, locked up the train, mounted his horse and rode back to town.
