The Night of the Mardi Gras

Chapter 7

Over the Border

The next day, Jim seemed to have turned the corner, he was cooler and even opened his eyes a couple of times, though he didn't appear to take anything in. Artie removed the bandage to look at his leg and was shocked by what he found. There was a thriving colony of maggots writhing around in the wound. He was about to remove them and clean the wound when it occurred to him that they were actually feeding on the infected flesh, leaving new, pink, healthy tissue behind. There was also a complete absence of the pus that had worried him before. He replaced the bandage with a clean one and decided to check on it again, later in the day.

By the afternoon, Jim had roused enough to be asking for water and Artie was quick to place a cup to his lips. Jim drank greedily and then passed his tongue over his dry lips.

"Jim, Jim, can you hear me?" Artie asked.

Jim mumbled the word, "Artie," showing that he recognised the man who sat by the side of his bed.

Artie couldn't keep a broad smile from his face. Here was progress indeed. Adriana had prepared some soup earlier, for their lunch and Artie knew there was some left in the pot, so he poured some into a bowl for his partner. Feeding him was a hit and miss affair, but Artie was satisfied that Jim had eaten as much as his condition would allow.

Tired out, Artie waited until Jim had quietened into a natural sleep and then dozed off in his chair.

When Artie awoke, he found his partner lying on his neck staring at the ceiling. He noticed this happening several times during the next few hours, until Jim responded to his voice once more.

"Jim, it's me, Artie. Stay with me, buddy. How are you feeling?"

Jim squinted up at him. "Stupid question," he mumbled.

"That's my boy," Artie said, with glee. "We'll soon have you up and about." He fetched more water, determined to keep his friend hydrated, especially as he had lost so much fluid during the fever.

When Adriana arrived back from work, Artie had good news for her.

"I've just looked at the wound on Jim's leg. The infection's gone and it's healing really well. I think we ought to celebrate."

"Good because I brought a bottle of tequila home with me from the cantina."

"Good girl," Artie said. "I'll fetch some cups."

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"I know you feel a lot better," Artie said, "But you should stay in bed until you regain more of the strength you've lost."

Jim was sitting on the side of the bed. "Look, I'm fine. We need to carry out your plan to arrest Alvarado. Besides, I'm tired of bed baths."

"Oh ho," Artie chuckled. "Perhaps, I should ask Adriana to take over then."

"Believe it or not, even that wouldn't tempt me to stay in bed."

"Knowing you, it is a little hard to believe. Look, another day won't make any difference. You can bathe yourself and, if you want to do something, then try some gentle exercise."

Artie had regretted that advice, when he returned later to find Jim doing press-ups. He opened his mouth to tell him what he thought of this foolhardy action and then thought better of it. This was James West. He had learned years ago that, in matters of bravado and fits of strength, Jim would always do exactly as he wanted and he usually got away with it. So, instead of wasting his time, Artie began preparing the food he had gone out to purchase.

He could hear Jim collapse on the floor, then get up, groaning and throw himself on the bed. He'd obviously exhausted himself. Artie shook his head. He had bought a cooked chicken and he now pulled this apart, placing the legs on a plate and using some of the breast to make sandwiches. He covered the bird with a cloth, so that Adriana could have the remainder when she came in.

He took the plate of food into the bedroom and offered it to his partner. As he had expected, Jim took a chicken leg and lay back to pull the flesh from it with his white teeth.

"Mmmm, delicious and a welcome change after all that soup," he said.

"Don't mock the soup," Artie chided him. "It kept you alive."

Jim stopped eating and was quiet for a moment. "Thanks for looking after me," he said. "I know how difficult and frightening it must have been, and I'm really sorry you had to go through all that; I don't know what I would do, if I thought you were dead."

"Well let's hope you don't have to find out. Now finish your lunch."

"Yes, mom," Jim replied, grinning, as he applied himself to the chicken leg once more.

Artie looked at his beloved face. It had been a long and hard journey but it was over now and he could relax, until they tackled Alvarado. He wished he didn't have to involve Jim but he knew his friend wouldn't let him face the enemy alone.

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It was time for Artie to reprise his role as the Texan, William Boudin. First he would have to explain his absence from the Alvarado hacienda, after he had appeared so keen to do business a few days previously. He sent a message to Alvarado, in which he explained that he had overturned his surrey, breaking his leg, and requested that Alvarado visit him in Laredo. He gave his whereabouts as a saloon, where he had moved, with Jim, into one of the upstairs rooms. A reply had been sent in the affirmative and they were now awaiting their quarry's arrival.

Artie was currently lying on the bed, wearing a silk dressing gown over his clothes, and with his right leg in a removable cast.

Jim was disguised as a little old Mexican woman, who was supposed to be taking care of him. He wasn't happy about it but Artie thought it best, as he didn't want Alvarado to recognise his partner. Also it amused him, especially after the teasing he had suffered at Jim's hand when he himself had played a woman in order to rescue him. Now the shoe was on the other foot and a dainty, female foot it was not, so Jim was being made to wear a floor-length dress of black stuff to hide his boots. Artie had made-up his face for him and procured him a dark wig with the hair tied back in an unflattering bun.

Scowling, Jim went to answer the knock at the door and kept his head bowed as he ushered Alfredo Alvaredo into the room, followed by two of his men.

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