He rode through the dark foggy streets of San Fransisco, but something struck James West as odd; there were no sounds, no horse and carriages, no people walking or talking along the boardwalks, not even a dog barking.

As he stopped in front of a saloon, but there was still no sound; no laughter, or music playing. As he climbed down his horse whinnied and he smiled.

"Thanks boy," he said as he patted the gentle creature. "For a minute there I thought I was deaf."

Jim cautiously walked in to the saloon, and much to his surprise it was full of people; everyone stared at him as he walked over to the bar.

"What can I get you sir?" the bartender asked.

"Just some information, I'm looking for a man named Michealson."

Just then five men stood up and approached the agent. "You need to leave sir." One man said.

"I'm just looking for my friend." Jim replied without turning.

"The man said leave, mister." Another man spoke. Jim still didn't turn. Suddenly one of then men grabbed his shoulder and began pulling him back. Jim counted to three then jerked his arm free and punched the two guys closest to him then attacked the rest. Spectators watched as the agent mopped the floor with guys, and just as he thought the fight was over, one man appeared with a heavy piece of wood.

The sudden pain drove Jim to his knees, the back of his head throbbed. Everything was suddenly blurry, he could feel himself being pulled to his feet then one after another he could feel fists being driven into his chest and stomach, the next thing he knew he could feel something sharp scrape against his face and his hit something hard.

He had been thrown through a window and landed hard on the boardwalk. Very wearily he lifted his head and whistled; his horse broke free from the tie-on, walked over and bowed his head next to his injured master.

"H-hey boy," Jim said as he grabbed the bridal, "C-can you pull me up?"

The horse lifted his head and pulled the agent to his feet, Jim staggered for a minute and with one final effort he mounted his pet and slumped on the gentle creatures neck. "Ok boy, home."


As Artie sat the table drawing a new idea in his sketch pad he occasionally looked out the window. "Alright James, my boy, I've given you far more time than we agreed on." And with that, he placed his pad and pencil on the table and began putting his jacket on.

Just then he heard a horse's faint nicker. "Finally!" he grumbled, but as he stepped out on the porch he knew something was wrong. "Jim!" he called as he jumped down.

The horse came to a slow stop right next to the train. "Good boy." Jim whispered as he began to slide off.

Artie caught his friend and struggled to get him in the car, after he got Jim settled on the couch he rushed up ahead and ask one of engineers to ride back and get a doctor, he then filled a bowl of cool water and grabbed some towels before returning to back car.

"Jim, can you hear me?" Artie said as he began to wipe some of the blood away from Jim's face.

"Ar-Artie?" Jim whispered in pain.

"Jim, what happened?

Jim struggled to talk, "Trouble... getting... answers."

Artie just nodded his head, he then carefully sat his friend up and helped him get his coat and vest off. As Jim laid back down Artie could see small pools of blood staining the once pure white shirt, and he thought that whatever made the small cuts on Jim's face must've cut his abdomen as well.

But that theory was cut short as Artie laid his hand on Jim's ribs and slowly applied pressure. Jim couldn't hold back the sudden cry as pain shot through his chest making it even harder to breathe, he wrapped his left arm around his chest hoping to ease the pain, but it didn't work.

"Easy Jim," Artie said as he grabbed his friends shoulder to keep him from thrashing around. "Take it easy."

"That-that's easy f-for you t-to say." Jim coughed. "Y-you're not i-in pain."

"Just try to relax, the doctor should be here soon." Artie continued to wipe Jim's face and neck with the cool cloth.

"I-I don't need... a doctor t-to tell me... I've got- got cracked ribs...Artie?"

"Yes Jim?" he replied as he leaned in closer.

"S-somethings wrong... t-town's too-too quiet..." Jim passed out.

"Jim? Jim!" Artie tried to gently shake his friend awake, but it didn't work. Just then he heard the sounds of horses approaching, and shortly after the doctor walked in.

"Mr. Gordon." the doctor greeted as he walked over to Jim, "What has happened?"

"I don't know Doc, he left for town and returned like this."

"Was he able to say what happened?"

Artie just shook his head as the doctor began his examination. He took Jim's pulse, checked his eyes, and listened his breathing, he then placed both his hands on Jim's ribs and lightly squeezed. In his unconsciousness state, Jim let out a moan and turned his head in pain.

"We need to get this man to the hospital." Doc said finally.

"What's wrong with him Doc?"

"He has at least two broken ribs, and it's causing internal damage."

Artie grabbed the engineers and had them help him and the doctor get Jim back to town.


Artie just sat in the corridor while the doctors worked on Jim, he couldn't help but feel helpless, he felt like it was his fault. "I shouldn't have let Jim go alone." he thought to himself.

Just then he looked up and saw a little girl wondering the corridors like she was lost.

"Hey," he said calmly as he approached the child. "Are you looking for someone sweetie?"

"Yes," the girl said smiling. "My mommy sent me to give this letter to a man named James West."

Artie tried not to look surprised. "Well that's me honey." he answered sweetly.

"Oh, ok." And with that, the girl handed Artie the letter then went skipping back down the corridor.

Artie carefully opened the letter. "Artemus," it began. "If you are reading this, then the meeting did not take place, I am dead and Jim is more than likely injured. I gave my friends instructions to get this letter to you if I did not return to them, I had some vital information for you gentlemen about Jed Standish and his gang.

I was able to infiltrate his fort and gather enough information to either put the men away for a long time or hang them. It's in the hotel safe titled "medical supplies" and it's for "Jeremy Folk".

Don't let this information fall into the wrong hands, it is vital that you get this to Washington.

Please tell Elisabeth that I love her, and I hope that she can forgive me for everything I've put her through. Good luck my friend. -Brett Michealson."

Artie realized that Brett had planned this out just in case something went wrong, but before he could think anymore he saw the doctor heading his way.

"Doc, how's Jim?"

"We had to perform surgery, he had a total of 3 broken ribs and some extensive internal damage. But I believe that he'll make a complete recovery."

"How long will he have to stay here? Artie said as they began walking down the corridor.

"At least four days, then he can return to the train. But under no circumstance is he to go gallivanting off on another case, not for at least two weeks."

"Well Washington has been trying to get him to take a vacation, this is their perfect opportunity. Can I see him?"

"Just for a moment, he's in room 23."

"Thanks Doc." then Artie walked down the corridor and walked in room 23.

Jim was sound asleep in the semi-dark room, Artie could hear his shallow breathing as he neared his friend. He just stared for a minute, then grabbed the letter from his pocket, wrote something on the back then placed it in Jim's jacket as he walked back towards the door.

"James, my boy." he said quietly, "guess I'm going solo." and with that Artie left.


He rode his horse from the hospital to the hotel, and on his way he realized what Jim was trying to say earlier. The streets were quiet, no-one was out; no horses, no people, nothing. All he could hear was an occasional bell ding near the harbor.

He stopped at the hotel, dismounted and walked in. He was shocked when he saw the hotel was filled with people, walking in and out of the connected restaurant and up and down the stairs, but no-one was talking.

"Can I help you sir?" the clerk spoke up.

"Uh yes, I believe that you have some medical supplies for me." he replied as he walked over to the counter.

"What's the name sir?"

"Jeremy Folk."

"Ah yes, your room was reserved yesterday, if you'll just sign in I'll get your package."

As Artie signed the book he saw out of the corner of his eye that some of the people had stopped and were staring at him. His first thought was to reach down and get his gun, but he decided to wait.

"Here ya go." the clerk interrupted Artie's thoughts as a small package was placed in front of him. "And here's your key sir; room 18."

"Thank you." Artie took the package in hand then headed up the stairs, little did he know; he was being followed... closely.


Artie carefully opened the door to his room, he placed the package on the bed then lit a couple lanterns to brighten the room. He walked around the room, checking for traps or secret tunnels.

He walked over and began opening the package; it was full of maps, pictures and two lists, one list had what appeared to be the names of the Standish gang written on it, while the other list had the names of America's great leaders.

Artie wasn't too sure what this was all about, but he decided to get a head start in the morning, as he laid back on the bed he wondered what the clues in the package led to, why the streets of one of America's most busiest towns were more silent than a graveyard, and if Jim's and these other problems were connected somehow.

He must've been more exhausted than he realized, for within moments he was sound asleep.


The sound of the early bird alerted a nearby nurse that the sun was rising, she walked in Jim's room to check on him. As she grabbed his wrist to take his pulse a slight noise rose up.

"Hello."

She looked down to see Jim staring at her. "Good morning Mr. West. How do you feel?"

Jim tried to move, but sudden pain made him gasp in pain.

"I guess that answers my question." she said as she sat down on the bed.

"Wh-what happened?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"You were in a nasty fight, you had some broken ribs, we had to do surgery on you." The nurse then gently touched his forehead, the coolness from her hand felt good, Jim sighed as he closed his eyes and turned his head so the nurse's whole hand was flat on his head. "Hmm, you've got a slight fever," she continued, "but that's to be expected after suffering from injuries like this."

The nurse then placed a rag into a bowl of cool water, rung out the excess and placed it on Jim's forehead.

"How long do I need to stay here?" he asked weakly.

"At least three more days, then you can go home." she answered as she lightly dabbed the rag across his face and neck. "Your friend should be back by then."

Jim grabbed her hand, "What do you mean?" his voice suddenly filled with worry.

"A Mr. Gordon, he was the one that brought you in, but he left after you came out of surgery."

"Did he say or leave anything?"

"I think so," the nurse placed the rag back in the water, then went over to Jim's coat, grabbed the envelope out of the pocket and handed to him.

Jim read the back of the envelope. "Jim, I'm sorry but it looks like I'm going solo on this mission. Brett left some stuff for us at the hotel, I'm gonna check it out, I'll try and be back when you get discharged. Don't worry, if things get too rough I'll contact Washington for some help. - Artie."

The nurse quietly stepped out as Jim laid his head back in disbelief; Artie was a great agent, but after what happened last night he doesn't stand a very good chance of returning in one piece. He then opened the letter and realized that Brett had planned this out as a "worst case" scenario, he was just gonna have to trust that Artie would watch his back.


Artie laid out all the clues across the bed, "There must be a something here." he thought to himself. Jed Standish was one the most wanted men for robbery and murder, but yet whenever someone got close to catching him, they were sent back slumped over their saddle.

He tried to study the maps, but they were just jumbles of information and nothing in the pictures made sense to him. Just then Artie heard footsteps quickly approaching, he gathered everything up in his saddlebags and stepped out of the window onto the balcony. As he closed the window back he could see five men bust into his room.

"Look around, he must've left it here somewhere." One man said gruffly.

Artie didn't wait around to see what was going to happen, he quickly walked around to the other side of the building and climbed down the back stairs, he then climbed onto his horse and rode out of town.

"There he goes!" another man called out. The five men rushed downstairs, jumped onto their horses and took off after him.

Artie wasn't sure where he was going, but he couldn't let them get a hold of his information, he suddenly came to a dry creek bed, he looked back to see that he had maybe a few minutes lead. He quickly jumped off his horse, took his saddlebags and hid them in a small cave before taking off again to lead the men away.

It worked; the men followed him away from the creek, but his luck soon turned as a shots began to ring out. He was able to dodge the first few, but suddenly a sharp pain hit him low in his right leg. "Here's my chance." he thought, and he dropped out of his saddle landing hard on the ground.

As he laid there he could hear the men come to a stop, a rifle poked his side but he tried not to move.

"He's dead, check his saddle, we need to find those papers." the leader said.

"There's nothing in his saddle, he must've ditched them somewhere." another voice said.

"Or he left them somewhere in plain sight, let's get going."

Artie listened as the sound of the horses got farther away, he carefully lifted his head and looked around, all he could see was his horse. He shook the dust from his hair then tried to stand up, but his injured leg barely let any weight be put on it, he limped over to a nearby tree to get a better look at his leg; the bullet was still in there, and he had a nice stream of blood oozing from the wound.

He took his handkerchief and tied his leg off to stop the bleeding before mounting his horse and riding back to the creek bed.

The sun was beating down hard on him as he gathered his belongings from the small cave and began riding again, Artie knew that he couldn't head back for the same part of town but he doubted if he could make it back to the train. He looked around as he took another path into San Fransisco, and he spotted a small ranch nearby.

"Mommy!" a young voice called out. "Mommy, someone's coming!"

A young lady stepped out of her house, she pulled back her dark hair as she saw the rider coming in. "Sarah, go get your brother." she said as she approached the gate.

Artie's horse seemed to walk slower and slower as he headed for the ranch, the suns scorching rays beat down hard on Artie, he could feel himself slipping off the saddle, the last thing he remembered was someone's muffled voice talking to him as he was lowered to the ground.


He slowly came to in a warm room, he could feel that he was laying on a soft bed. His head felt hot and his leg throbbed.

"Hi Mr. West." a small voice broke through the mental fog.

He slowly turned his head and saw the small girl from the hospital. "Well hello, what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly. You came to my house." she giggled.

"I see," he said wearily. "I-is your mommy here?"

"Yes, I'll go get her."

As the small girl left the room, Artie tried to sit up; the throbbing in his leg shot pain up to hip and he let out a hissing groan.

"Hey hey, easy Artie, don't move so much." a kind voice said as she laid him back.

Artie looked up and was pleasantly surprised. "Elisabeth? Elisabeth Michealson?"

"It's good to see you Artie." she said as she sat on the edge of the bed. "What are you doing way out here? With a bullet wound?"

"I uhh was trying to get away from some thugs." he said looking at his hands.

"Oh, well I guess it didn't go so good, that a nasty wound."

"Is the bullet still in there?"

"No, I was able to get it out." she said smiling. "But I'm afraid that you're gonna be staying here for a couple days."

Artie just smiled, he then reached up and tried rubbing his forehead but it hurt.

"Hey easy, you've got a nasty sunburn, you must've forgotten your hat out there somewhere."

"I guess you're right." Artie joked as Elisabeth placed a cool cloth of his forehead. "Lizzie, was that your daughter?"

"Yes, that's Sarah. Why?" she asked as she gently applied a cream to his sunburned hands.

"How did she know who to look for at the hospital?"

Lizzie placed the cup back on the table. "When Brett left here yesterday, he gave me the letter and told me that if he wasn't back by 10:00 to get it to you. What he didn't expect though was that I followed him to the bar, I heard something strange inside then Jim showed up and got thrown out the window. I watched him as he returned to the train and then I followed you to the hospital."

"Brett wouldn't have liked it if he found out that you had followed him, that's why you sent Sarah in looking for Jim."

"Yes, but I wasn't sure if she could remember "Artemus Gordon" that's why I gave her Jim's name, I knew that you'd still get the letter. But I still haven't heard anything from Brett."

Artie could see tears beginning to form in Lizzie's eyes, he gently laid his hand on hers. "Lizzie, he wanted me to tell you that he loved you, and that he was sorry for putting you through this all these years."

"I guess that's the perks of being married to a man of the Secret Service. At least he was able to stay here in San Fransisco, unlike you and Jim."

"Well trust me, I've wanted to settle down many times, but I guess that I loved the adventure too much."

Lizzie just nodded her head in agreement, "Well, why don't you get some rest, we can talk more later."

"I sure hope I can," he said as rubbed his eyes.

"Pain?" she asked as she tore open some medicine powder and poured into a glass of water.

"Just a little headache." he whispered.

"Here, drink this." she carefully lifted his head and waited until all the water was gone. As Artie fell asleep Lizzie closed the curtains and lowered the lamp to keep the room cool. "Sweet dreams dear friend."

As he slept he didn't hear the five men sneaking into his room.


Artie woke up in a cold dark room, he looked around and noticed that he was in a cell. He slowly got up, his leg was still sore but it was stiff, he limped over to the cell door. "Hello!" he called out.

He heard someone walking towards him, it was one of the men that attacked him earlier. "So, your finally awake." he said pompously. "J.S wants to talk with you."

"Who's J.S?"

"You'll find out soon enough." the young man said as he unlocked the cell door. "Come on."

Artie limped down the corridor and was guided to great room, he noticed the little girl, Sarah, and a young teen boy sitting in the corner.

"Welcome Mr. Folk." a voice called out. "Or should I say, 'Mr. Gordon'?" just then a slender man emerged from the shadows.

"Jed Standish, I presume." Artie said cocking his head slightly.

"Very good Mr. Gordon, I don't understand why people say that Mr. West is the greatest, you are very much his equal."

"That's why were partners, Mr. Standish. Your information must be a little off for you not to know that."

"That must be it." Standish then went and sat next to the children.

"Stay away from them!" Artie screamed, he tried to rush over but the his guard hit him in the leg, causing him to fall to his knees.

"There's no need to fear Artie." a familiar voice spoke from behind. Artie turned to see Elisabeth coming towards him. "Mr. Standish has been very kind to my family."

"For what? The selling out of Brett? The attempted murder of Jim West?" Just then Artie leg sent shooting pain through him, he grabbed his leg in agony.

"What's wrong with him?" Standish questioned.

Lizzie knelt beside Artie. "It's his leg, one of your men shot him." she felt his forehead, "We've got to get him to a better room than that cell."

Standish nodded his head to his men, and the men jerked Artie to his feet and they followed Lizzie to her room.


As Lizzie carefully re-wrapped Artie's leg, he had questions stirring in his mind.

"Before you start jumping to conclusions," Lizzie started. "I didn't sell Brett out, I loved him but Standish has threatened to kill him if I didn't get you here."

"Why does Standish want me? Why did he go to such great lengths to wound Jim?"

"He hasn't been too clear on that, that package that Brett left for you was full of confusing clues about what the gang has planned. Standish thought that maybe only you could unravel those clues, he also knows that Jim is too strong-headed to just wait around and see what's going to happen, he at least hoped that you wouldn't try escaping."

"I see, but I don't know what kind of help I could be, I've seen the clues and there's nothing there."

"You mustn't let them know that, they will kill you for sure, and who knows what they might do to Sarah and Jess." Lizzie said as she pushed back some her hair from her face.

"Don't worry Lizzie, I won't let anything happen to them."

"But what about you and Jim?"

"Jim won't be able to do anything, he's in the hospital with three broken ribs. He's not a threat to them."

"I sure hope you're right Artie."

Just then Standish walked in the room. "How is he?" he demanded.

"His leg is pretty swollen, I will have to go to town to get some medicine." Standish gave Lizzie a questionable look. "If I don't get him some medicine soon, he will die and then you will just have a pile of clues."

"Very well," Standish sighed. "But you will not go alone. Billy will go with you."

"As you wish." and with that Lizzie and the young guard headed for town.


Lizzie stopped her horse outside of the hospital and dismounted. "Now stay with the horses, I'll be right back."

"Mr. Standish said that you weren't suppose to be alone."

Lizzie had a disgusted look on her face. "Do you really think that I'd try to pull something when you have my children being held hostage? Now stay here!"

She stormed into the hospital and was met by a nurse. "Lizzie! Where have you been?"

"Carol, you must understand I can't be here long."

"I don't understand Lizzie."

Lizzie then pulled the young nurse aside. "Listen, a friend of mine has be badly hurt, can you get my some supplies while I visit a patient here?"

"Well of course, but why do you want to visit a patient?"

"I'll explain that later, now please get all the supplies from this list and bring it to me in five minutes."

Carol nodded then took the list and watched as Lizzie headed down the hall peeking in almost every room.

As Lizzie opened the door she saw Jim sound asleep, she carefully walked in, placed a small note in his hand then leaned down. "Jim," she whispered. She waited for a moment, then she saw him starting to stir, she quickly left the room, grabbed the medical supplies and headed back to the hideout.

Jim's eyes snapped open, he lifted his hand and read the note. "Jim, send help to Michealson farm. S.O.S. -Artie"


Lizzie rushed back into her room and started tending to Artie's leg. As she gently applied some medication rub to his leg, she handed Artie the bag.

"What's this?" he whispered.

"Some stuff I thought maybe you could use to make a distraction so we can out of here."

Artie dug through the bag, "It's possible, but we'll need to plan this right so we can get your children as well."

Lizzie nodded her head and as she continued to work, Artie started mixing up a nice little "present" for Standish.


Artie limped into the great hall, guarded heavily. He saw Lizzie and her children sitting next to a ground level balcony, they were ready to go, question was; would Artie be?

"Well Mr. Gordon, how do you feel?" Standish said as he bit into an apple.

"Better now, thanks to Lizzie."

"Ah yes, she can be quite helpful when she wants to be. Have you had any chance to look at the clues?"

"I have, but they're a lot of nonsense; no patterns, no real threat to anyone on those lists." Artie crossed his arms and signaled to Lizzie to get ready.

"Is that what you think?" Standish then pulled out the list. "President Grant, General Juarez, Vice President Wilson..."

"Threats are made to those men all the time." Artie interrupted.

Standish raised his hand, then continued reading. "Mr. James West, Mr. Artemus Gordon. Now, wouldn't you say that this is a real threat of your life Mr. Gordon?"

"My life has been threatened before, and it's no different now!" Suddenly, Artie elbowed the guard behind him, then quickly threw down the powder pack.

As it exploded into a cloud of smoke, Lizzie grabbed her children and climbed down the balcony to safety. Artie took off running, as best as he could, down the corridor, until he came to an outcropping that he could hide in.

He waited until the guards passed him before he started crawling out, as he inched along the corridor he suddenly heard a light tapping noise. "Morse code!" he thought. He began pressing on the walls looking for a possible hidden panel, just then "Bingo!" he found it. He ducked into the hidden room, but slipped down a slide that was hidden in the dark, as he landed on the hard cell floor he could hear Standish laughing.

"You're life has been threatened before, Mr. Gordon, but has it been threatened to this extent?"

Artie was sure what Standish met until he heard something, "Ar-Artie..." it whispered. Artie looked over, and slumped in the corner was...

"Jim!"


Artie carefully laid his friend down, he took off his coat and bundled it up to use as a pillow. "Jim, what happened?"

"Some-someone left me a note... you were in trouble... next thing I remember, I was here." Jim turned over on his side and wrapped his arms around his chest and stomach.

"Standish!" Artie called out, "Why would you threaten the life of an injured man?"

"His name was on the list, was it not? Besides, he's so much more easier to handle like this, don't you agree?"

Jim let out a shuddered groan, "Artie..."

"Standish! We need the medicine bags!" Artie cried out again.

"Why should I save the life I'm going to kill?"

"Because... I'll decipher the clues."

Silence was the response, Artie wondered if they would send down the medicine or if they would just let Jim suffer. He looked around and found some water in a small pitcher, he knelt beside Jim and began damping his sweating brow with a handkerchief.

"Artie..." Jim whispered.

"Easy Jim, hopefully they'll send some help for you."

"Artie..." Jim said as he grabbed Artie's arm. "Someone... threatened San Fransisco... bomb planted somewhere... going to blow if people don't obey."

"So that's why the streets are so quiet and abandoned at night. How did you find this out?"

"A nurse... she told me after I read your letter."

As Artie continued to care for his friend, he noticed a cell window and saw that the sunlight was disappearing. "It's getting late Jim, try to sleep."

Jim nodded his head and let out a final sigh as he fell into a deep sleep. Artie got up and looked around to see if there was something that he could use as a blanket to keep Jim from freezing in the night; Jim's clothes would keep him warm, but not for long.

Suddenly he heard a loud creaking and slamming sound, a door had been opened and closed, he then saw a blanket crumpled on the floor. As he lifted the blanket the saddle bags fell out; the medicine and clues.

"Here are the things you requested." Standish's voice arose. "Along with the clues, I must have your word that you will solve these clues, otherwise it'll be the end for Mr. West and yourself."

"You have my word Standish." Artie wrapped Jim in the blanket, he then dug in the medicine bag and found matches. He quickly gathered some small pieces of wood and built a small fire near his friend. As the room filled with warmth and light, Artie laid out all the clues, hoping to find a pattern.

As the night crept along Artie studied the clues, at first he could see anything but then he noticed something. He picked up a picture and suddenly recognized it, just then everything began falling into place.

Occasionally Artie had to stop to adjust the fire and make sure that Jim wasn't running a fever. At last, the pieces all fell into place, Artie looked outside and saw that there was still some time before the sun rose. He placed what last little pieces of wood he could find onto the fire then laid down near Jim hoping that his body heat would keep his friend warm, shortly after he was sound asleep.


Standish sat in his chair eating an apple.

"Well?" a voice spoke out.

"He's working on it." Standish answered.

"Are you sure Gordon will figure out those clues?"

"Yes I'm positive, he's got his partners life hanging in the balance, there's no way he'd play any tricks on us."

"Good, once we get those answers no one will know that it was us... Who killed America's greatest leaders."


Artie slowly woke to the sound of a small bird, he rubbed his eyes as he sat up and saw Jim, still wrapped in the blanket, kneeling beside the laid out clues.

"Jim," Artie said as he got up and approached his friend.

"Morning Artie." Jim said without turning.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, I uhh took some headache medicine. Hey Artie, what is all this?"

Artie sat down, "This is what was in Michealson's package."

"Pictures, and cards with names? Wh-who?"

"Jed Standish, but I think he's just the front."

Jim shifted so he could sit looking at his friend. "What makes you say that?"

"Brett Michealson wrote us that he had been following the Standish Gang and gathered these clues, but yet Standish needed these clues deciphered."

"Interesting, what have you found?" Jim seemed to shiver under the blanket.

"Well it took me a minute but I think I found the pattern; These people are our great leaders."

"President Grant?" Jim questioned.

Artie nodded, "And the Vice President, Secretary of State, every Governor in all the territories, President Juarez... and us." Jim looked at Artie in surprise. "These pictures are of the various homes, restaurants, lodges, and resorts that the people live, eat or vacation at." Artie continued.

"And what about us Artie? I don't see the train here."

"Whoever is behind this knows that we're always contacted first..."

"Whenever a threat is issued." Jim interrupted. "I can see where you think there's another head man, Standish wouldn't know this." Just then Jim noticed Artie's leg. "What happened to your leg?"

"Oh, I uh caught a bullet, that's all." Artie tried just passing it off.

"Artie, how do you just 'catch a bullet'?"

"Those uhh five men that gave you a working over, chased me out of town. A couple shots went off, I caught one in the leg, but it's not serious. I stumbled onto Elisabeth Michealson's farm and she took care of me." Artie replied smiling.

Jim lightly chuckled but then shifted in pain.

"Jim, you alright?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"No you're not." Artie shuffled over and laid his hand on Jim's forehead. "You're burning up."

The coolness of Artie's hand felt like ice to Jim, he suddenly began shivering uncontrollably.

"Jim." Artie whispered as he took his coat and wrapped in around his friend. He then began looking around for more stuff to use to build a fire, he found and broke a couple wooden boxes and used a match to light them near Jim. The room slowly began to warm up, but Jim still sat shivering.

Artie carefully laid Jim down as close to fire as he could, using a saddlebag for a pillow. He then grabbed the pitcher of water and again, using his handkerchief, began wiping Jim's sweating brow. "I gotta get him some help." he thought to himself.

"How are you doing with those clues, Mr. Gordon?" a voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

"Please, help me! Jim needs help!"

"The clues Mr. Gordon." the voice insisted.

Anger swelled up inside Artie. "I have your answers, now get Jim some help!" he screamed.

Once again, silence was the response, Artie sat next to Jim trying to keep him warm and his face cool. Just then the door opened and two men with a stretcher walked in.

"Mr. Gordon." the voice spoke up again. "These men are our personal doctors, they will see to Mr. West. You are to gather the clues and follow Smitty to the great hall."

"How do I know that these men will care for him?" he asked carefully lifting Jim's head and shoulders onto his lap.

"You will just have to trust me." the voice sounded a little more reassuring.

Artie looked at the men and nodded his head. He carefully laid Jim back down and stepped aside so the doctors could place him on the stretcher and carry him out. Artie watched the men leave the room, and as he gathered up the clues he said a silent prayer for his friend.


Artie was guided into the great room, his hands tied as he held the clues in his arms. "I'm here Standish!" he called out.

Standish walked in the room and sat down at the head of a long table."Smitty, untie Mr. Gordon's hands, he's here as a guest not a prisoner."

Smitty untied his hands and Artie laid out the clues along the table.

"Tell me Mr. Gordon, what have you discovered?" Standish asked as he bit into an apple.

"Oh nothing more than the truth." Artie said as he stuck one thumb in his belt.

"Oh, and what might that be?"

Artie's smile turned into a stiff frown "That you're not in charge."

Standish stopped for a moment, then began chuckling. "What do you mean? Of course I am in charge, is this not the Standish Gang?"

"Oh it''s the Standish Gang alright, just under new leadership."

Standish stood up and walked over to Artie, "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I mean that there is no way you or your men could've gathered this kind of information, and even if you did you wouldn't have need me to decipher it."

"Explain."

Artie sighed then reached down and pointed at two pictures. "This is the President Grant's private resort, and this is President Juarez's personal oasis, only select guards are stationed here and only certain agents are given the locations, it's even kept secret from their closest friends and highest ranking officers."

"And how do you know all this?" Standish questioned, trying to sound intelligent.

"Because only three agents know; James West, myself, a..." Artie suddenly stopped and he realized who was in charge. "And Brett Michealson." he sighed.

And just like clock work, the sound of clapping rang out as a young man stepped out from behind the curtain.

"Very good Artemus," Brett said as he approached the table. "Tell me, how did you come to the determination that it was me?"

Artie crossed his arms and sighed. "Just like I said; you were the only other person besides Jim and myself that knew about these places. What I don't understand is..."

"Why?" Brett interrupted. "Well I'll tell you, I did all this because I am sick of playing second fiddle to the great 'West-Gordon Duo'. You and James getting all the praise from Pres. Grant, and every meeting the other agents talk just about your latest case and what you did to foil the gangs' plots."

"So that's why you put out that threat to San Fransisco, and I assume that equal threats to these locations will be submitted?" Artie said as he carefully reached into his coat to grab something. "But why injure Jim?"

"Well I'll tell," Brett then crossed the room and stood near a window. "You see, if any threats are submitted, even if they're aren't taken all that seriously, the President always calls on you two, if Jim is injured and you have gone missing..."

"That leaves you to be called out to solve the crimes, and then you'll be getting all the praise."

"Exactly! And with enough success in my file I will be the greatest agent and the great West-Gordon Duo will be obsolete."

"But why Brett?" Artie asked, his heart filled with sadness. "You have a wife and a family, why go to such great lengths to fail?"

"Fail?" Brett laughed. "Standish wasn't right, West is the greatest of your little team, I sometimes wonder why he keeps you around. You are far too soft for an agent."

The words hit Artie a little harsh, but he just swallowed and glared. "You know Michealson, that's why you'll never be number one, because you don't trust anyone." Just then Artie raised his hands and threw some smoke bombs around the room, as they exploded he hit Smitty and took his gun and headed for the corridor.

Through the smoke shots rang out, Artie could tell by the yells that he hit a few, but he wasn't sure who he hit. He had to get more bullets, but where? He quickly ran down the corridor when he ran smack dab into one of the doctors.

"Mr. Gordon, quick this way."

Artie didn't question, he followed the young doctor into a small room.

"We were able to gather your gun and gun belt, and we reloaded it with fresh bullets." the doctor said as he handed Artie the items.

Artie took the belt in his hands. "Thanks."

"No thanks are necessary, as long as you can get us and the servants out of here."

"You have my word." Artie said as he placed his hand on the young doctors shoulder. "How's Jim?"

"He's in here," the doctor walked Artie into the next room where Jim laid on his side under heavy blankets. "He's doing better."

"Jim." Artie whispered as he leaned close.

"Artie?" Jim said as he slowly opened his eyes. "What's going on?"

"I don't have much time," Artie then whispered into Jim's ear and with a final squeeze on his friend's shoulder, Artie quickly left the room.


Artie snuck around the corridors, trying to avoid any further confrontations with Standish's gang. He manged to get outside, into the courtyard, but he soon realized that that was a mistake.

"Like I said Artemus," Michealson's voice called out "I don't understand why Jim puts up with you, he would've never gone out in the middle of a courtyard like that."

Artie carefully walked back towards a wagon filled with barrels. "I guess that's why it's the 'West-Gordon Duo'. Besides, Jim isn't always right, we both have to help each other out!" he called out.

"Maybe you're right." Brett spoke from behind, Artie quickly turned. "But he isn't here, you are."

"I see your point," Artie said trying to act cool under pressure. "What I don't see are anymore men."

"Well believe it or not, your bombs choked half and the others you hit, so it's just you and me."

Artie didn't like it, no man should ever have to go against a fellow agent, but yet here they were. At least it wasn't Jim.

"What's the matter Artemus, you going soft again?" Brett taunted.

"Only because we're suppose to be friends, Brett. I can't draw against you." and Artie holstered his gun.

Brett busted out laughing, "Oh, so I was right, you are too soft," he then aimed his gun. "And that will be your downfall."

"Not this time Brett!" a voice called from behind.

Brett turned and fired, but Jim jumped out of the way. Brett then turned back to fire at Artie, but Artie drew and out shot him. Brett stumbled for a minute then slumped to the ground.

Artie knelt down beside his fellow agent. "Why Brett, why go to such great lengths just to fail?" he repeated.

"I-I guess to see i-if everyone was right or wrong... about you." Brett said finally, then he died.

Jim stepped out of his hiding spot, his arm wrapped around his ribs. "Artie?"

Artie didn't say anything, he just stood up, walked over to Jim and walked his friend out of the compound... back to San Fransisco.


The clicking noise of the telegraph machine rang long, Jim sat at the table listening to the message then replied.

"Well that's good news, eh Artie?"

Artie just sat slumped on the sofa looking at a picture of his fellow agents, in the front was Jim, himself and Brett Michealson.

"Artie?" Jim repeated as he slowly sat down next to his friend.

"Huh, what's good news?" Artie said finally.

"The remaining Standish Gang were taken into custody, and San Fransisco is back to it's normal self."

"Oh, oh that's fine Jim, just fine." Artie just stared at the picture. "Jim, do you think that Brett was right?"

"About what Artie?" Jim shifted in his seat, still somewhat in pain.

"About my not being as great as you, a 'weak link' so to speak."

"Artie." Jim sighed as he took the picture from his friend. "If you were such a weak link, then the Standish Gang wouldn't be in prison and there would still be a corrupt agent in our midst."

"Ok, so I got off a couple good hits. So what?"

"So what? Artie, you and I have been working together for years now. You're no longer the same man I met backstage at one of your plays asking for your help, you're my friend and I wouldn't want to work with anyone but you. And another thing, I couldn't get through these cases without you; you might not be as strong a fighter as me, but you make up for it in many ways."

Artie thought about it for a minute, then looked at his friend and smiled. "Thanks Jim."

Jim smiled then patted Artie's shoulder. "Now that that's settled, what do you say we have a nice relaxing dinner in town?"

"Well Jim, aren't you suppose to be taking it easy?"

"Artie, it just so happens that Nurse Abigail and Nurse Greta are waiting for us this very moment at San Fransisco's finest restaurant."

Artie thought for a moment "Well I guess as long as they're waiting for us, you can be taken off of bed-rest for one night."

The two men laughed as they stood up, put their coats on and headed back to town.

Artie was grateful that he had Jim for a friend, and he knew that for as long as they worked together he would grow stronger and prove Michealson wrong.