New recruit Señor Gonzaleez arrived early to his formal dinner with his new employer, as behooved someone trying to make a good impression. Most of the other guests had chosen to be timely for this glittering affair with the most intimidating of hosts as well. They were a mixed but fascinating lot that gave Secret Service Agent Artemus Gordon flashbacks to a brief, quaint vacation in Justice, Nevada. Here was Little Pinto's dear cousin Appaloosa Al, wanted in at least five states. Over there was Sadie Silver the Saloon Slayer, well-named with her golden garter-garottes. But where was the oh-so-short dinner guest he dreaded and desired to see most of all? Mingling among such murderers and murderesses was all very well and non-good, but where was Miguelito Loveless?

Arte still didn't have the answer to his question as the tinkling of a bell signaled for them all to take their places at the dinner table. 'Gonzaleez' found himself seated next to the charming Miss Silver on his left and a lovely, unknown, but no doubt murderous maiden on his right. Nine guests occupied nine well set places at the table before the mighty Hector el Tigre and his consort Ghattina settled into their thrones up on the dais. The cushioned chair sat alone. Arte got his answer to the little man's whereabouts soon after their hosts arrived and the dinner was about to commence in proper however. As delicate iced fruit cups were set down before each guest by uniformed (and armed, Arte noticed) waiters, the Tiger clapped his hands loudly once more. All conversation paused and the guests turned their attention to a set of glass double doors at the far end of the room where a pair of guards were standing at sharp attention. A different bell rang rather than tinkled, the doors opened and Arte had to crane his neck to see the figure being escorted in between two more guards.

Loveless.

Yes – here was their worst enemy all right, in Hector el Tigre's Mexican hideout as they'd been told, and he did appear to be a prisoner if the shackles he was wearing, made out of solid gold, and the guards holding onto the chains attached were any indication. Those shackles must have been as ponderously heavy as they were shining and beautiful, and they definitely slowed down Loveless' already-crooked gait. But in spite of the physical burden and indignity they represented, Dr. Miguelito Quixote Loveless strode into the room as if he owned it and all enclosed within were his guests, here for his sole benefit. He did not grant his cousin el Tigre so much as a sideways glance as he made his way over to the cushioned chair and permitted his guards to lift him up into it. Thus ensconced on his lesser throne, with full aplomb, Loveless nodded to the company, picked up his spoon in a way that made his arm chain clank, and helped himself to a first bite of the fruit cup.

"Aaahh!" Loveless exclaimed approvingly, closing his eyes and smacking his lips in ecstasy as he chewed and swallowed the chunk of fruit. "Guava! My favorite!"

The spell suddenly broken, the rest of the company commenced with eating their own fruit cups and taking up the threads of conversation once more. Arte, trying to keep both eyes on Loveless and both eyes on Hector el Tigre at the same time, found it a hopeless task. He had to settle on dividing his attention between them, which seemed much more manageable since Loveless wasn't committing mayhem to anything except bite-sized pieces of fruit at the moment. The little doctor remained as much a connoisseur of fine food as ever. Hector el Tigre, however, was biting down on his own fruit as if it were a hated enemy he was determined to crush with his mouth. He used such force of jaw and hand that the delicate spoon was bending in his mighty grip. Where Loveless was enjoying himself, smug and content, the true host of the occasion fumed silently, staring daggers at his little cousin while decimating his first course. What sort of game was Loveless playing? Arte knew the little monster enjoyed making others dance to his tune, but the doctor's cheerful obliviousness to his situation and his cousin seemed reckless even for him. He did not have the tiger by the tail here, but by the claw, and that isn't a good position for someone who's too shackled to run.

Arte's own obliviousness had annoyed a tigress much closer to him though.

"I said," Sadie Silver hissed, nudging him in the ribs a bit, "do you prefer knives or bullets as the best means of killing an opponent?"

"Oh, uh, but such weapons are crude," he responded, batting his eyebrows and flashing a grin at her. "I prefer to slay with my rapier wit!"

This comment caused his other female dining companion to draw back in alarm.

"You rape your victims to death, Señor Gonzaleez?" she gasped, while Sadie rolled her eyes.

"No!" Arte cried, genuinely horrified at the misunderstanding. "I-"

He was about to explain what he meant when a banging of el Tigre's fist on the high table brought all other noise in the room to a standstill again.

"Cousin Miguelito!" the Tiger roared. "I have allowed you to come to our nice dinner! But I did not say you could bring your pets!"

Arte glanced back over to where Loveless was sitting. His attention had been turned away for only seconds, but in that time Dr. Loveless' trained pet raven had appeared from somewhere to take up a perch on his master's shoulder. Loveless blithely ignored his cousin's enraged outburst, reached down into his fruit cup with careful fingers and plucked out a grape to hand feed to his feathered minion.

"There, there," he cooed to the raven. "Don't be frightened of the nasty puddy tat. Just have your treat and tell me if you can find anything here I should know about." Then, with a flick of those long fingers, he sent the bird flying into the air to flap about the fancy room.

Artemus would have thought that 'the nasty puddy tat's' fury was something sufficient for Loveless to pay attention to – and that any smart bird would mind it too. This particular puddy tat was a lot larger and fiercer than Loveless' former pet pussycat, after all. But the bird, as heedless of el Tigre's outrage as Loveless himself, circled and swooped in the confined space, causing the other dinner guests to duck, swear or in a few cases draw their weapons. There was much for the raven to fear, or shiny to be attracted to in this room.

"LOVELESS!" Hector stood straight up and put his hand on the jeweled dagger at his belt. Whether he intended to draw it on the bird or his kinsman, Arte couldn't tell.

The raven continued its circuit of the room with one near-miss encounter by a dinner guest's dagger when, to Arte's astonishment, it alit on the top of his head all of a sudden, spread out its wings and squawked to its master and everyone in its hearing range.

"Rawk! Artemus Gordon! Artemus Gordon! Rawk!"

What? How?

Arte tried to shoo the bird away, but it only flapped and hovered above his head, squawking out his name once more while every eye – and weapon – in the room suddenly turned in his direction. Dr. Loveless threw back his head in one of his braying, sniggering laughs as the raven flew back to his shoulder.

"Why, Mr. Gordon, how good of you to join us!"

Arte, identity now fully exposed, did not try to hide his chagrin as Loveless clapped with glee.

"Oh, very good!" Loveless told the raven. "Very, very good!" Loveless stopped clapping and extracted another piece of fruit as a reward for the bird, golden arm shackle still clinking away. The other dinner guests, meanwhile, keeping their weapons trained on Arte, got up from their places and were slowly backing away from the table. Arte became conscious of tension, thick as a tug rope, placing him right in between an old, dangerous enemy and a new, equally dangerous one. Beside el Tigre, Ghattina was rising also.

"Gonzaleez!" Hector demanded. "Is this true? Are you Señor Artemus Gordon?" The bandit chieftain was almost pulsing with rage. He would not want it to be true, because that might mean Gonzaleez' praise of him was false also, but one of the more intrepid guards dared to approach Artemus and ripped off his false mustache with one lip-stinging yank. "So," el Tigre growled, "a liar, and a bare-faced one at that."

Arte shrugged, wondering what could possibly get him out of this situation, when Loveless unwisely chose to draw the room – and the Tiger's – attention back to himself.

"Naturally," Loveless preened to the other prisoner present, "you will be wondering how my clever bird saw through your disguise, which isn't a bad one, by the way."

"Thank you," Arte sighed. "I was, now that you mention it." Not that he had to worry about Loveless keeping the secret from him. If there was one thing the little wizard loved, it was having a captive audience for one of his tell-all monologues.

"Such an incredible animal, the raven," Loveless grinned, running a hand over its feathers. "So intelligent, unlike the bulk of humanity." He spared his cousin and Ghattina a quick glance as he said it, leaving nothing to doubt about the implication as Hector clenched his fists in rage. "So little understood, rather like me! Why, do you know, Mr. Gordon, that most of your so-called scientists think ravens don't have the ability to smell at all, in spite of the obvious evidence that these creatures not only have nostrils, they can find their food over great distances regardless of whether it is visible or not? Those fools completely ignore the truths right in front of them, under their noses as it were, whereas I, Mr. Gordon, do not!" Loveless folded his outsize hands together and gloated in Arte's direction. "In fact, ravens have an excellent sense of smell, and since you and your partner Mr. West have spent so much time in my company, it was a small matter to gather some of the objects you've both left your scents on and teach my little pet here to recognize them! Why, he's as good as any bloodhound, only better – bloodhounds can't fly!" The malevolent midget began clapping again and chortling, but there was nothing amusing about this situation. If looks could kill, Hector's glare would have slain Loveless a thousand times over, but the doctor continued to ignore him. The killers and cut-throats arrayed around the room did not. They gave way as el Tigre stepped down from his dais and began striding toward his cousin, murder writ large on his features.

"Oh, but where are my manners?" Loveless asked, slapping himself on one knee with another clinking sound. The Tiger halted in his tracks, waiting to hear what apology Loveless might have to offer. Yet Loveless kept his focus solely on Artemus. "I nearly forgot to inquire, Mr. Gordon. How is your partner, Mr. West?"

"He's, um, fine, as far as I know," Arte said. A lot more than I can say for myself!

"Of course, I don't need to ask where your partner is," Loveless said, sending the raven aloft with a flick of his hands once more, and making a peculiar whistling sound which caused the bird to fly out the nearest window. "Because my precious pet will find him for me!" The doctor's facial expression sobered and now he too began to glare – at Artemus. "Only this time, Mr. Gordon, neither one of you is going to spoil my plans! This time, you cannot possibly stop me from succeeding! It is I, Dr. Miguelito Quixote Loveless, who will emerge triumphant!"

"I do not think so, Señor," Hector rumbled, standing directly behind the gold-shackled gloater on the cushioned chair.

Arte shivered, in spite of himself. A man can only be pushed just so far, and it looked to him like Hector el Tigre had definitely reached his limits. Arte wondered if he was about to see their familiar archenemy torn limb from tiny limb right before his eyes. He could sympathize with the desire to maul the mad scientist, but they needed Loveless alive.

"And, ah, just what is your master plan this time, may I ask?" Arte made a gesture with his hands, hoping to draw el Tigre's attention back to him long enough for Hector to reconsider his course of action. Loveless, preening, didn't help at all.

"You may ask, Mr. Gordon," Loveless said, making closer examination of his manicured fingernails. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wait until our dear friend Mr. West joins us. I do so hate repeating myself."

As if you ever tire of the sound of your own voice! Arte thought.

"Once I have Mr. West in my grasp, however, I shall-"

Loveless' boast was cut off as his cousin gave an angry snort, more like a bull about to charge than any size of cat, and clamped a firm hand down on the little wizard's shoulder. At last, Loveless seemed to realize the very real and mortal danger he was in. Hector's grasp wasn't crushing that tiny shoulder – yet. But that might come at any minute.

"I do not think it is you who will take down this man West." Hector's voice was now quiet, deep, and as threatening as any Arte had ever heard. "It is I who will finish him! After I have finished you."

Those words, even more than the hand, got Loveless' attention. For the first time, he attempted to turn his head around to face the Tiger directly.

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed in horror. "Mr. West is mine!"

"You think so?" Hector scoffed. "Give me one good reason." There was a slight, menacing smile on el Tigre's face – expressed pleasure at having his cousin's full attention and at the new notes of agitated panic in Loveless' voice.

"Because he's my enemy!" Loveless cried. "I – I saw him first!"

"You call that a reason?" Hector's other hand descended upon Loveless' opposite shoulder and in one swift motion he picked the doctor up, shackles, chains and all while the guardsmen holding onto the gold chains dropped them and got out of the angry Tiger's way. They were wise to do so. In the next moment, el Tigre shook Loveless with enough force to make those heavy chains flap every which way, enough force almost to shake the midget's outsize head off his shoulders, it looked like. By the time he paused a few seconds later, only Loveless' pride and iron discipline appeared to be keeping the dizzy doctor from fainting or throwing up.

"I have taken you into my house! Fed you from my table! Hidden you from the law!" Hector yelled. "All this, I have done for you, and for what? Rudeness! Ingratitude! You think you are worthy of commanding me?"

Arte, desperate to forestall bloodshed, stood up in spite of a guard's attempt to push him back down, and waved both hands to call for a truce.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "There's no need to argue! I'm sure there's plenty enough James West to go around for everybody! Can't we just talk things over?" He hoped his most disarming smile would be disarming enough. "I mean, you're all family here, right?"

Glib talk might have been his specialty, but as soon as those last words were out of his mouth, Arte got the feeling they were a mistake. Both cousins stared at him agog, as if he were some sort of madman. To try and come between these two, perhaps he was one, he thought glumly.

"Mr. Gordon!" Loveless protested. "Do you really think that I, Dr. Miguelito Quixote Loveless, direct descendant of the crowned heads of Spain, would consider this – this backwater barbarian bandit family?"

Wrong answer, wrong answer! Arte cried inwardly, wondering if their nuisance nemesis had lost whatever sense of self-preservation he had left. The offended el Tigre's face was redder and angrier than ever as he made ready to shake the little man to pieces again.

"We are both descended from those 'crowned heads' as you put it – I no less than you!" Hector rumbled. "But only one of us is fit to claim their legacy! I see that now!"

"Well thank you for that at least," Loveless harrumphed, mistaking the big man's meaning. "I-" Further words were cut off as Hector's grip on Loveless' shoulders grew tight enough to make those appendages squeak.

"I do not mean YOU!" Hector roared loud enough to rattle the delicate chandelier above them. "I will no longer be denied what is rightfully mine! I will not allow our family's history to be diminished by this puny, deformed dolly-man! By this blemish on the glorious name of-"

"Puny!" Loveless shrieked, attempting to kick Hector in the chin but missing because of the weight of his leg shackle. "I am a mental giant among men! A genius above all others! And at least I was born on the right side of the blankets, unlike you, you misbegotten, musclebound, mor-"

"Gentlemen!" Arte shouted again, trying to think of anything that might end this quarrel, when even he was interrupted by the return of the raven. The bird flapped straight toward the two cousins, its appearance sudden enough to cause Hector to drop Loveless in a heap while shielding his eyes from the pecking pet. But the bird didn't attack Hector or return to its fallen master's rumpled shoulders either. Instead it landed squarely on the dining room table, spread out its wings, and once more made a pronouncement for the whole room to hear.

"Rawk! James West is dead! James West is dead! Rawk!"

Jim – dead? How?

While Arte stared at the bird in shock, Hector el Tigre was the one to throw back his head and laugh this time.

"So! Loveless one!" Hector now gloated down at his fallen cousin, who looked as shocky as Arte himself. "It seems someone or something has saved me the trouble of disposing of your Mr. West already! Now I have only to kill the two of you!"

"But you can't!" Loveless was sweating now, his voice shrill. "I am the true heir to the Kingdom of California! I am the only legitimate claimant! I am the world's greatest genius! These people here recognize that!" He gestured around the room, and thus around a group of criminal cut-throats who seemed more eager to recognize the course was likeliest to lead to their immediate safety and then profit. They knew which side their tortillas were buttered on, and it clearly wasn't Loveless doing the buttering. Much, much too late, the still-shackled prisoner realized that his hand wasn't so much weak as non-existent. As the assembled drew their weapons again, not to side with him against el Tigre, but rather to pledge those weapons to el Tigre's cause against Loveless, the triumphant Tiger laughed again.

"Do you really think a bird in the bush is worth more than two in the hand?" he chortled, snatching his small cousin up by the chains and dangling him like a puppet. "There is no more honor to be had in tolerating you and your insults! No honor at all."

With the armed guards clamping onto Arte's own shoulders and the select squad of killers moving forward, Arte could only look over at the man he'd come to rescue with bitter chagrin.

"Got any more bright ideas?" he asked.