THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON

By Andamogirl

Author's note: story inspired by Artemus Gordon's blue dragon tattoo. Wingfic with medieval fantasy including dragons, magic, a mage and a sorceress, animal transformations, a knight, etc.

References to my stories called "The Night of the Comanche Moon" and to "The Night of the Dreadful Mistake" & to "The Night of the Monstrous Storm" and "The Night of the Trek Among the Stars" & to "The Night of the Ice Cold Death" and references to the following WWW episodes, "The Night of the Cadre", "The Night of the Lord of Limbo", "The Night of the Juggernaut".

Post series.

Hammond: Well, I hardly think murder is an accurate description of what happened to Lt. Bartlett.

Artie: What do you mean by that, sir?

Hammond: I mean a kraken. A fantastic monster that lives in perpetual darkness, miles below the ocean's surface. In constant cold under tremendous pressure. As strange and alien creature as you'd properly expect to find on the dark side of the planet Uranus.

The Night of the Kraken

Richmond: What are you going to do about it?

Artie: I don't know. I think I may even learn to grow fond if it after a while.

Richmond: What? I'm not talking about your blasted tattoo! I'm talking about Jim!

The Night of the Turncoat

Warning: blood and disturbing images

WWW

TEASER

Mid-August 1878

Rutherford Birchard Hayes entered his office in the White House and glanced at the gray-haired man dressed in an impeccable dark suit waiting for him. "Good morning, Colonel," he said before taking his place behind his large desk.

Colonel Richmond gave a quick nod. "Good morning, Mr. President."

Hayes opened the dossier sitting in front of him and rapidly read the first page – it was a report of the yellow fever outbreak that was decimating the population of the Lower Mississippi Valley. Tens of thousands fled the stricken cities of New Orleans, Vicksburg, and Memphis.

He took another page into the folder and read it too. It was a letter from a certain Dr. Miguelito Loveless who claimed he could heal the people affected by the epidemic with a serum of his invention – in exchange for ten million dollars in gold bars.

Harrumphing, the President looked up at the man standing to the side of the big Louis XV style table and asked him, "I never heard about Dr. Loveless. What do you know about him?"

Colonel Richmond, head of the US Secret Service smiled. "A great deal, Sir. I put the very thick file I have on him in the dossier, Mr. President."

President Hayes nodded but didn't take it. "Do you think he has that serum, or is he bluffing?"

Richmond sighed. "Dr. Loveless is a scientific genius, Sir, and one of the most wanted criminals of the US, and I think he has that serum and used it on himself, because he wouldn't stay in Vicksburg otherwise. Do you intend to give him the gold bars Sir?"

Hayes shook his head. "No. I don't. I never give in to blackmail Colonel. I want you to find Dr. Loveless and get your hands on that serum, and bring them both to Washington. I will ask Dr. Loveless to reproduce his serum so that we can heal everyone - in exchange for his life. He will remain in prison until the end of his life instead of being hanged. Send your best agents on this mission."

Richmond looked embarrassed. "My two best agents retired last year, Sir. But I have very good agents who can work on this assignment."

Hayes nodded and pointed at two names in Loveless's letter. "I hope so. Dr. Loveless wants James West and Artemus Gordon to bring the gold bars to him in person in Vicksburg. Who are they?"

Colonel Richmond replied proudly, "Those are the two agents I told you about earlier, Sir. They were the best special agents of the Secret Service, Sir. They know Loveless very well, they have fought him for years under President Grant's two tenures and managed to make his evil plans fail each time. They put him in jail a few times but he escaped each time."

Hayes nodded. "I see."

Richmond continued, "They are living legends in the US Secret Service, Sir. The mere mention of their names still makes the worst criminals in the country tremble with fear. I'm not surprised Dr. Loveless wants to see Jim and Artemus, because he still wants to kill them both. He has for years! He tried many times, did his best to, but he never succeeded, obviously As Loveless is a very intelligent man, he knows that you won't give him the ten million dollars – and he doesn't need them as he's very rich, he's a billionaire. The serum is bait to bring West and Gordon to him, Sir. All he wants is them."

President Hayes rubbed his chin pensively. "And I want this man, and his serum and I want these two men on this mission too. They're the best for the mission."

Richmond was embarrassed again. "They retired Sir. Jim West lives in Mexico, in a small town called Tecate, he has a ranch and breeds and raises horses. He has a fiancée named Carmelita and two toddlers named Jesus and Rufina. As for Artemus Gordon he lives on the Comanche reservation, enjoying a simple and peaceful life among his Indians friends."

President Hayes was very surprised. "He lives on the Comanche reservation? Really?"

Richmond replied, "Yes Sir, he's been there for a year now."

President Hayes frowned in puzzlement and asked, "I thought it was forbidden for whites to go to Indian reservations?"

James Richmond nodded. "You're right Sir. No white people are allowed there. But Artemus Gordon has the right to go to the Comanche reservation and live there as he is an adoptive Comanche warrior, and he speaks Comanche fluently too. He even has a Comanche tattoo on his back. For those Indians he's one of them, Sir. His Indian name is Strong Bear. President Grant has officially acknowledged these facts. He's also a Cheyenne and a Crow warrior."

Impressed and admiring Hayes nodded, "This man is exceptional!"

The head of the Secret Service nodded. "Yes Mr. President, he is. I'm going to put Bergson and Hemmett on the case, Sir. They're excellent agents. And they know Vicksburg. They were stationed in the garrison there after the war."

President Hayes shook his head. "No, don't do that. I want West and Gordon on this mission, Colonel, and that's an order. I'm sure they will accept this assignment to save thousands of people from yellow fever and as a bonus, they will stop Dr. Loveless once and for all. Bring them here as soon as possible. I want to meet them; not to convince them to accept this mission, because I know that you will do that, but to meet these remarkable men to get to know them." He paused and added. "Goodbye, Colonel."

Richmond nodded. "Yes Sir. Goodbye Sir."

Once in the corridor, Richmond was joined by his second in command, Major Barrett who was waiting to take his orders. "Major, I have a mission for you," he said.

Richard Barrett smiled enthusiastically. "For me?" He loved field missions, much more than sitting behind a desk, he reflected. "Yes Sir. Is it a difficult one, Sir?"

Richmond nodded. "Yes, a very difficult one, Richard. I'm going to send Hopkins of the Phoenix Bureau to talk to James West, as for you, I'm sending you to the Comanche reservation, to see Artemus Gordon. You will transmit him a message from me, and you'll have to be very persuasive."

Barrett paled and felt his throat go dry. "The Comanche reservation Colonel?" He had heard that the most ferocious of all Indian warriors staked out male captives spread-eagled and naked over red-ant beds. After being attacked en masse; bitten by thousands of insects injecting their venom and experiencing intense burning and swelling, they died in horrible suffering. He gulped. "Yes, Sir."

Richmond smiled. "Calm down, they are not going to scalp you alive, Barrett. They are now peaceful and live on livestock and a little agriculture."

Barrett sighed in relief.

WWW

Comanche Reservation, three days later

Silver Cloud entered Strong Bear's tepee and stopped next to the opening. Arms crossed on his chest, smiling, he watched 'the white Comanche' sitting cross-legged in front of the band's children, using all his talent as a storyteller to tell them the story about Big Man eater Owl (Pia Mupitsi), who lived in a cave on the south side of the Wichita Mountains and ate bad children at night.

Boys and girls gathered next to the fire, sitting on a nest of blankets were both scared and fascinated and all mesmerized by Strong Bear's voice.

Pausing in the middle of his story, Artemus looked up at his best friend and asked, "What is it?" Then he frowned in worry. "Something wrong?"

Silver Cloud shook his head, his earrings made with silver disks (obtained from the traders) moving from one side to the other and clanking. "There's a man waiting outside, Major Barrett from the Secret Service. He wants to talk to you. He told me it's important. Colonel Richmond sent him here."

Standing, amidst a chorus of "no, stay!" and pouts, Artemus said to his young and captivated 'audience', "I'm coming back, I won't be long."

Suddenly a little girl grabbed Artie's leg in an attempt to stop him. "Don't leave! I want to hear the rest of the story", she begged, stamping her foot in frustration.

Strong Bear smiled fondly, pulled the four year old up into his arms and then pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. "I won't be long, Yellow Deer," he said.

He lowered the little girl to the ground and then followed the Comanche war chief outside the tepee sheathed with a covering made of buffalo hides sewn together.

Richard Barrett – framed between two menacing warriors holding spears, the tip pointing towards his neck – was pale and nervous, Artemus noticed, and he saw that the other man's hand was hovering over his holster, twitching. His jaw set tight.

He smiled to ease the tension and said, "Don't worry, Major, they're not going to kill you – unless of course you have the bad idea of taking your gun out from your holster. They would consider themselves being attacked and you would be dead before you could pull the trigger."

Eyes wide with awe, the Major glanced at the tall, slim and muscular man standing in front of him – who had just left from a tepee which was painted in blue at its top, had blue stripes in its middle and blue zigzags at its base - and talked to him with a warm and rich voice, in a perfect English. The other man looked like more like a Comanche than a white man, he thought.

The ex-special agent of the Secret Service had painted his face black with two red stripes on the forehead and chin. He wore a leather belt with a breechcloth leaving the legs bare and buckskin moccasins with buffalo soles. He had two mid-long braids tied with leather thongs covered with beads and a scalp lock at the back wrapped with strips of blue cloth. They were levelling his dark-tanned bare chest. A long earing was hanging from his right earlobe made from pieces of shell and had a slender braid on top of his head, decorated with colored beads, and a single eagle feather. His bare chest was covered with a hair pipe breastplates and he had bands of fringed leather and strips of metal on his arms and a knife at his right side, in a beaded sheath.

Barrett cleared his throat and to be sure of the older man's identity, he asked him, "Are you Mr. Artemus Gordon?"

Artemus Gordon nodded. "Yes, it's me. Maruawe, it means greetings. You're the first person to call me like that for a year, Major." He asked the two warriors threatening Barrett with their spears to leave, in Comanche language and then, crossing his arms on his bare chest, chin raised in determination, he said. "I know why you're here and let me tell you this, you're wasting your time. I'm not going to go with you to Washington to see the President. He wants to give me a special assignment, right? That's a no. I retired."

But the Secret Service officer 'pulled out an ace out of his sleeve' and said, "James West accepted to do this assignment yesterday, Mr. Gordon, and he's now enroute to Washington."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Artie said, "You're bluffing, Major. Jim would never want to go back to the Secret Service even for a very important single mission, even for the President. He swore that to me. Like me he retired. Period. You're telling me this to force me to accept because you know I wouldn't let Jim do any assignment alone as we're a team, were a team. In fact, it's not your idea, it's Richmond's idea, am I right? And if I say, 'Okay I'm in', you will tell Jim I accepted this mission and he'd accept to because he wouldn't let me do this alone either. We always protect – well protected each other."

Richard Barrett pulled out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out. "Mr. West knew you would say that, so after he accepted the assignment he transmitted a message to Colonel Richmond and the Colonel gave it to me before I left Washington so I could give it to you. Here it is." And he watched the older man take it.

Brow furrowed, Artemus read the message aloud, "Saddle up Artie, we're needed. In case you doubt this message is from me, I'm giving you proof. For our last Christmas before we each went our separate ways, I offered you short black underwear with golden embroidered sitting and walking cats on it. I'll wait for you on board the Wanderer. See you soon. Jim." He nodded. "It's from Jim alright."

Barrett added another point, "You wouldn't let your best friend deal with your old arch-Nemesis alone, right, Mr. Gordon? He'll need you."

His curiosity piqued, Artie asked, "Our old arch-Nemesis? Are you talking about Dr. Miguelito Loveless?"

The Major nodded. "Yes, Mr. Gordon. Dr. Loveless wants 10 million dollars in gold bars against a serum he made to heal the yellow fever plaguing the Lower Mississippi Valley. People are dying by the hundreds there. He wants you and Mr. West to bring the gold to him in Vicksburg – which is under quarantine because of yellow fever causing ravages there. The President will give you a mission order so that you can enter the epidemic zone, without being arrested and detained by the army."

Uncrossing his arms, Artie huffed and said. "It's Loveless's usual scheme. It's a trap to kill Jim and me. The bait is the serum."

Richard Barrett continued, "The President wants Dr. Loveless arrested and in exchange for his life, he'll have to make enough serum to heal everyone affected by yellow fever."

Shaking his head, Artemus said, "No one has managed to keep Loveless behind bars – he always escaped and that hasn't changed."

Barrett shook his head. "Nothing lasts forever. You'll succeed."

Furrowing his brow again and crossing his arms over his chest, Artie said, "I didn't say I would participate in this mission Major."

Major Barrett nodded. "I know, but people are dying from yellow fever, as we speak, Mr. Gordon. You and Mr. West are the only ones who can stop Dr. Loveless – you did it before - and by doing it saved hundreds of men, women and children. Please, come with me to Washington."

Silver Cloud shook his head. "Strong Bear doesn't want anything to do with white men affairs anymore," he said to the USSS officer. He placed his hand on Artemus's broad shoulder then added. "Strong Bear's place is here, with his band."

Richard Barrett looked falsely very disappointed. "Let's hope James West will be able to accomplish this mission alone, without his partner." He moved toward his horse and put his left foot in the stirrup. "This time he won't have you at his side to protect him."

Raising his chin proudly, Artie replied, "I never – ever – abandoned my partner. And it's not going to happen now!" He looked at Silver Cloud and added, "I have to go with Major Barrett. Jim's a magnet for trouble. He'll need me at his side. I'll be back as soon as the mission is over. And I'll be careful."

Silver Cloud nodded and pressed Artemus's shoulder. "I will wait for you, Strong Bear. The Big Father will watch over you and protect you."

Barrett smiled in pleasure and pride. Mission accomplished, he thought.

Strong Bear looked up at the USSS officer who had just mounted his quarter horse and said, "Wait for me, Major. I have a few things to do before we leave." Then he headed back toward his tepee, he had a story to finish. Then he'd pack a few things to go to Washington, he thought.

WWW

A week later, in Washington

Inside the Wanderer

In the morning

Looking around him, smiling broadly, James West noticed with pleasure that the parlor car of the Wanderer was intact and he started to muse. The decommissioned Wanderer had been immobilized on a side track of the Washington rail station for a year now and, fortunately no one had thought about dismantling her. The train had been simply abandoned there. He loved the train which had witnessed so many adventures and served as their home for Artie and him for many years. He had asked the President to be able to use the Wanderer to go to Vicksburg and back and Hayes had accepted. Doing a mission without the wanderer was inconceivable. She had been entirely refurbished, the galley had been restocked, the bed linen changed and the bathroom and toilets cleaned from top to bottom. Hay and oats had been stored in the stable for the horses and he had picked up the keys of the cell placed there.

He ended his musing saying, "I hope Loveless will be locked inside it soon."

He glanced at the door expecting to see Artemus come inside any time now. Richmond who had accompanied him here a few minutes before had told him he was on his way to there after being received at the White House by the President, he remembered.

He was grinning now, so very happy and excited to see his best friend and ex-partner. It had been a year since they had seen each other! He hadn't heard from Artemus since his departure for the Comanche reservation. He had written several letters to him, but Artemus had not answered any of them. The Indian agent might have never received them or lost them – or more simply, Artie had received them but did not wish to answer his letters, wanting to cut the ties with his past to devote himself to his new life, far from white men and the tumult of 'civilization', he mused.

Jim ran two fingers over the green tablecloth, thinking about all the things Artie and he had done on it – eating excepted – and he smiled as he remembered a particular scene, Artie sitting there in front of his chemical kit improving a knockout gas, making it colorless and odorless. The train had slowed down to take on water, and the chemicals had been spilled, knocking Artie out, and he had covered him with a blanket. He even remembered what he had said then, "Congratulations Artie, done!"

He heard a noise and turned around – someone was climbing the metallic steps leading to the rear platform and he watched Artemus Gordon suddenly appear in the doorway. He was surprised to see that the older man was still dressed as a Comanche warrior.

He observed the other man from head to toe. Artemus was wearing a loose-fitting buckskin shirt adorned with patterns and shapes formed with beads, fringed leggings tied onto the same belt that held the breechcloth with thongs attached at the hip and moccasins. He wore his hair in two long braids tied with colored cloth level to his chest. His scalp lock, was decorated with pieces of colored cloth and beads, and a single eagle feather. He had loops of brass hanging from his pierced right ear.

His clothes were rumpled, dirty, his hair was mussed and his almost gaunt cheeks were covered with caked-dirt and several days of stubble.

A small smile tugged at Jim's lips. "What? No body paint? I thought Comanche Indians were fond of painting their bodies and were free to paint themselves however they pleased?"

Artemus chuckled in response and then replied, "Heavy rain on the way to here made the paint vanish. Sadly it's not waterproof."

Looking falsely disappointed Jim said in a playful tone, "You could have invented one, Artie. You had one year to do that. I'm sooo disappointed in you." Then he grinned. "Hello Artie! It's good to see you!" and Artemus grinned back. "You went to the White House dressed in Comanche garb? Really?"

Doing a quick survey of his clothes, Artie nodded. "Yes because I don't have any other clothes and had no time to buy ones," he said. Then looking at Jim he added, "The President was very surprised to see me like this, and that's an understatement. Richmond was at my side, otherwise the Secret Service wouldn't have let me even put a foot over the White House perimeter." He took a step inside the parlor car and then he said, "Hello Jim! It's good to see you too."

Still grinning the two men enveloped each other in a bear hug, then Jim parted first from the other man and looked at him from head to toe. "You lost weight…"

Artie nodded. "I know. Government rations are not enough to feed my band – and bands in general in the reservations. We must ration ourselves. The big game is killed by encroaching gold miners so they can eat and because they want to starve us, to kill us. I talked about that to the President and I have his promise he will see to all this personally and will make decisions quickly. Comanche manage to survive with additional food, hunting small game like rabbits and gathered nuts, berries, and wild potatoes…"

Frowning, furious, Jim said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Artie nodded. "Sometimes we kill some elks or deer in the mountains. I'm a pretty good hunter and I rode horses like a true Comanche!" he said. "I will head back to the Comanche reservation as soon as this mission is complete to help my band… But for now I need other clothes to be able to mingle with whites… with people. I sent all my belongings to my mother's home one year ago, my cats included, I couldn't keep Marmalade and Aztec with me as Comanche Indians have lots of dogs – they would have killed them. Speaking of cats, how's AG?"

Jim smiled. "He's fine and hunting mice all over the ranch. He's very happy," he responded.

Artie nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. All I possess now is my tepee, what's inside, everyday objects and three bows, two quivers full of arrows, a pair of knives, a tomahawk, and a rifle and bullets. Mo and other horses and Comanche clothes."

He looked around him and finally realized that the parlor car looked exactly like it had when he had left it a year earlier.

He smiled broadly. "This is perfect… the Wanderer has been cleaned, refurbished and restocked… We're ready to leave!"

Frowning, Jim said, "Not yet. You need other clothes Artie. People are not fond of 'Indians. You could have some problems and end up dead in the middle of the street."

Lowering his buckskin travel bag where his personal belongings were kept to the couch, Artie said, "Ura, I mean thank you. Buy me a hat, a gun belt and a gun and boots too in addition to the clothes? I will reimburse you, later, I promise."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Jim asked, "With what Artie? Comanche Indians have no money. What are you going to give me in exchange?"

Artie nodded. "I will give you two of my paint horses in exchange, one male one female. I broke them to saddle myself. Comanche horses are the best, Jim. Comanche are one of few Indians to know how to breed horses."

Pleased by the offer, as he could add the horse to his herd, at his ranch, Jim reached out. "I accept your offer," and he shook Artemus's hand.

Smiling, Artie said, "You know what my tastes are, right? Oh, and buy some toiletries too."

WWW

Later, en route to Vicksburg

In the galley

Pouring fresh coffee into a mug, Jim said, "I'm sure you missed coffee," and he offered the big steaming cup to his best friend.

Smirking Artemus said, "Yes, I did, mine, but not yours."

Pouting playfully, Jim sat down on a stool beside the small table, in front of his ex-partner. "And you missed a lot of other things too I suppose, starting with good cuisine?"

Closing his fingers around the porcelain mug, Artie nodded. "At first yes, but after a while it's easy to get accustomed to eating the Comanche menu, usually composed of buffalo, deer, or elk meat, sometimes rabbits, gathered nuts and berries, prairie turnips and wild potatoes, all meals flavored with wild herbs." He took a sip of bitter molasses-like coffee and then grimaced. "Gaah! It's still an abomination… " Mouth watering, he picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies which were piled in the glass jar siting on the table. "They're still warm!" He licked his lips hungrily, took a huge bite and … and then his eyes lit up and went big as the chocolate melted in his mouth. "Oh boy!" he said after swallowing a piece of the cookie, crunchy yet gooey on the inside. "This is the best cookie I've ever had!"

Jim chuckled. "You say that because you didn't eat a single cookie in a year. Your cookies are absolutely delicious."

Artemus nibbled the chocolate-chip goodness with a grin plastered on his face, savoring it, slowly, moaning with pleasure with every bite. "It's so good, it's heavenly… I missed cookies, pastries and cakes in general and I missed chocolate too…" Then he licked some of the melted chocolate off his fingers and said, "Thank you! You had a very good idea to buy a whole jar of cookies along with a box of cigars at the grocery store. I missed cigars too. But like everything else, I learned to live without them."

Jim nodded. "I knew you would love them." And in his turn he plunged his hand in the jar. He took a bite at the round biscuit and then added, mouth still full of cookie, "You should take a bath to clean off the dirt and grime from you," he remarked, nose wrinkled waving a hand in front of his face for emphasis. "Hot water, soap and shampoo are heavenly too, I heard." Then he smirked. "I think you should take two baths, one to clean your body and another as a treat for your old and stiff joints, because after days of riding, you must be in pain everywhere and aching with exhaustion."

Smiling, Artie nodded, ignoring Jim's teasing. "Excellent idea. I will, once my stomach is full." He picked up the crumbs or chocolate he had spilled on the table, ate them one after the other, so as not to waste anything and he replied, "At least my hands are clean. Mmm, it's just too good!"

Embarrassed, fingering the edge of his mug, looking the other man in the eyes, Jim asked, "Can I ask you something? You never replied to my letters Artemus… may I know why?"

Surprised Artie raised his eyebrows and asked, "Letters? What letters? Before we each go our separate ways you promised to write to me, but I never received anything. I waited for weeks, hoping to hear from you, and then seeing no letter coming, I thought you were somehow mad at me… and what was driving me crazy was that I didn't know why."

Feeling bad, even if he didn't have to be, Jim shook his head and then said, "I'm not mad at you Artie, I never was and I never will."

Feeling relieved Artie smiled and then he took a new sip of the hot and thick coffee and made a new grimace. "I think I know what happened, Jim. The Indian agent hates Indians and hates his job in general. I gave him my letters for you – addressed to Colonel Richmond so that he could transfer them to you – wherever you could be…"

Frowning, upset, Jim said, "I never received any of them."

Rubbing his forehead, Artie continued, "I suppose he destroyed them to hurt me – as I'm a Comanche warrior –and please himself. Next time I see him, I'll have a little chat with him about that." He frowned. "By the way, where do you live now?"

Smiling, Jim responded, "In Tecate, it's a small town in Mexico not far from the border with the US. I have a modest ranch and I breed and raise horses, quarter horses and Appaloosas. And… I have a family now. I met Carmelita a month after you left for the Comanche reservation and I instantly fell in love with her. We're engaged and we have two babies, Jesus and Rufina. One boy, one girl. Twins. Carmelita and I are planning to get married soon."

Artemus stared at Jim open-mouthed in stupefaction. Then, after a few seconds he rasped, "What?" He paused, released a 'wow!' and then said, "I'm glad I'm sitting down…" He grinned happily. "Congratulations!" then he frowned, upset. "And you're telling me this now? We've been together for hours!"

Embarrassed Jim nodded. "I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you about it, but with everything that happened, and all the 'excitement' I completely forgot." He smiled. "Thank you. I'd like you to come to my wedding and to be the godfather of my children. I wrote it in my letters."

Feeling tears welling up, as he was very moved and honored, Artie nodded. "It would be an honor… I accept with great pleasure."

Jim beamed. "The honor and the pleasure are mine."

Artie stood, sat his mug of un-drinkable coffee on the table and pulled Jim into a tight embrace. "I'm going to kill that Indian agent the next time I see him… to have deprived me of such wonderful news!" He parted from the other man, wiped his tears with the back of his hand and then patted Jim's shoulder friendly. "James West is affianced, he's going to get married soon and has two babies…Boy! I still can't believe it!" He chuckled. "Unbelievable! I still can't believe that James 'Don Juan' West is going to get married and he's the father of two children… I know a lot of women throughout the country who will be very disappointed to hear this… and some of them, could even kill you, driven to it by reasons of the heart, like jealousy."

Jim chuckled. "I'm sure. Then let's keep it secret." Seeing his best friend suddenly sway to the side and grab the edge of the table to keep his balance, he jumped to Artemus's side and put a hand under his elbow. Frowning in worry he asked, "Are you okay?"

Artie nodded and then yawned. "It's nothing, just a dizzy spell. I'm completely exhausted, worn out," he said to Jim who was looking at him, his brow furrowed in concern. "I'm fine, don't worry." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and stumbled slightly. "It was a long, long, ride to get here and I wore myself down to the bone, and that's also why I'm so dirty and so smelly." He sniffed at his right armpit and looked embarrassed, suddenly realizing it. "I'm sorry about that. I barely stopped along the way to sleep and eat in order to get here as soon as possible – and of course didn't stop enroute to take a bath in a river or in a pond." He scratched his bearded chin. He needed a shave, he thought.

Eyes opened wide Jim stared at his best friend in disbelief. "What? You travelled to Washington on your horse? From Oklahoma Territory? I don't understand… Why didn't you take the train to get here like I did?"

Scratching the top of his head, Artemus responded, "I tried, but no one wanted to have an 'Indian' plus his horse on board. When I told the passengers I was a white man, nobody believed me. I didn't insist when three men unholstered their revolvers, pointed them at me and said 'go away red skin or we shoot you!' Major Barrett was at my side and he did his best to convince the passengers and the train controllers I was a special agent of the Secret Service in a covert mission in the Indian Territory, but they didn't believe him either. So he took the train alone and I mounted my horse. Thankfully Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse is a strong horse. He deserves a big bucket of apples! I didn't attempt to embark on any other trains after that."

Shaking his head, appalled by that kind of despicable reaction Jim said, "I'm sorry, Artie, it should never have happened."

Waving a hand in dismissal Artie said, "It's nothing and I don't care. That kind of thing doesn't affect me." He stood and stretched out, hearing his bones popping and yawned loudly. "I'm going to take a long, hot bath. See you later Jim." He took a last sip and settled the empty mug in front of him. "Thanks for the coffee, even if it's awful."

Standing too, Jim said, "I'm going to do the dishes."

Moving toward the door, Artie, said, "As long as you do not prepare the meals it's okay by me, I don't want to die from poisoning", and then he left the small room, chuckling softly.

Jim grinned, happy to have Artie back at his side, like the good old times.

Tbc.