The next morning Artie woke and found only a note on the pillow beside him. Morning, pal. Donovan said not to wake you. He'd wait for you downstairs in the restaurant. He's in no hurry. Will be back later, hopefully with both men still alive, Jim. Artie read the note and hook his head, if there were two men to ill-fitted to hunting it was Matthews and Ketchum. He didn't envy Jim his day and with Jim's back Artie was sure the day would be excruciating for him. Artie dressed and hurried downstairs to find Donovan. He entered the restaurant just as a man he thought he recognized, left Donovan's table.

"Who was that?" Artie asked as he joined him.

"Just another traveler. We met last night, we were comparing notes on places to see," Donovan replied.

"Oh, I thought for a minute there I knew him, I guess not," Artie said as he sat down.

"Mr. Gordon, care to order breakfast? I don't like to eat alone so I waited for you and I'm starving," Donovan said, trying to make conversation.

"Mr. Donovan…" Artie began.

"Please, call me Don, everyone does."

"Fine, whatever. Listen DON, I don't know what you're up to but you can just can the act. I don't need a baby sitter, I can take care of myself," Artie stated, he just wanted to broach the subject of who Donovan really was head on and be done with it.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Gordon, I'm merely concerned with your well being…"

"My well being? You don't know me from Adam, I find that very had to believe," Artemus folded his arms across his chest and glared. Suddenly, a thought came to him.

"He sent you here, didn't he?" Artemus demanded to know.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb with me. If I can see through your guise what makes you think James won't?"

"Mr. Gordon, if I level with you can you promise me you won't tell anyone, including Mr. West?"

"I will make no such promise. If I think Jim has a right or a need to know, I'll have to tell him," Artie didn't like where this seemed to be headed.

"Fair enough, Mr. Gordon. My name really is Hank Donovan. But I'm not from Iceland, I'm from Iowa."

"Iowa? But…you're a plant!" Artie said disgustedly.

"Yes, but not for the reason you think. I've been in place for about a year now. Far longer than this missions lifespan."

"Oh then by all means, enlighten me," Artie said.

"Mr. Gordon, I was sent here by the Secret Service. One of the gentlemen you are babysitting is a murderer and I was sent to infiltrate them and discover who that murder is."

"Why didn't they just tell us. Jim and I could have…"

"Could have blown over a year's worth of hard work."

"So we were brought in as part of your cover. With Jim and I providing the babysitting you would be free to investigate and find out which one was the guilty party."

"Right first time, Mr. Gordon, no wonder the President thinks so highly of you."

"I don't like being used," Artie stated flatly.

"And I really hate being involved in this type of mission when…"Artie let his sentence trail off.

"Mr. Gordon, you've got to believe me. I had no idea they were sending you and Mr. West. When Mr. West told me of your condition I tried to delay the mission but the State Department wouldn't hear of it."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Artie mused.

"I know how you feel, Mr. Gordon. I've been dealing with these two for the past year or so. Every time I think I have figured out which one is my man the other one does something to make me suspect him."

"Suspect them of what, it's not just murder. The State Department would hardly send an operative in on a simple murder case, let alone waste months setting him up," Artie sat pensively for a few minutes, deep in thought.

"It has something to do with those dead Senators, doesn't it?" Artie asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, Mr. Gordon."

"One of these two men is either responsible for all those murders in the past year or they know who is. And who would suspect foreign dignitaries. They must have thought that if they could take them out they could replace them with men of their choosing and thus gain access to much more foreign aid and other perks." Artie said.

"Mr. Gordon, you are indeed a many of many talents. It took our department 6 months to get as far as you have in 6 minutes."

"I'm just gifted, I guess," Artie smiled.

"But you do realize that if things heat up I'll have to tell Jim."

"Yes, I do, but I trust your judgment. You'll do what you think is best."

"Well, now that show and tell is over, what do you say we go play tourist?" Artie started to push away from the table.

"Not so fast, Artemus…"

"What, did I miss something?"

"I was also given a last minute addition to this assignment by President Grant himself," Artie sank back down.

"Okay what does the Old Man want?"

"He ordered me to keep an eye on you. And my eye says we didn't eat yet, and my stomach says it wants to eat now," Donovan smiled as he handed Artie a menu.

"Oh great two Mother Hens," Artie grumped, Donovan just laughed.

"Don't worry, Artemus, I've seen James' Mother Hen routine, I'll be as discrete as possible. But when we are around the others I think I had better address you two as MR."

"Finally someone with some sense," Artie laughed.

SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE ATLANTA—

"Mr. West, when do you think we'll see something?" Matthews asked for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"You have to have patience, Mr. Matthews, and you have to be quiet," yeah right, like that will ever happen,

They sat on their haunches waiting for some poor animal to come into their sights. The fire in Jim's back intensified with each passing moment. He hoped they got something soon. Listening to the strange whispered conversation between these two was driving him up a proverbial wall.

Matthews crawled around to the far right side of Jim. He motioned that he saw movement. Jim nodded and turned to Ketchum. Ketchum, Jim had discovered, should never been allowed to handle sharp objects let a lone a lethal weapon like a rifle. He watched Ketchum scan the area and decided he was a man who couldn't be trusted. He still couldn't make up his mind about Matthews. He obviously had more experience with firearms than he was letting on. Jim had the feeling that there was more to this mission than was meeting the eye. He hoped Artie was faring better with Donovan.

He was jolted back to reality when a shot rang out followed by a scream. Jim snapped his head in Matthews' direction to see him clutching his bloody hand. Jim rose from his crouch and nearly fell over, the pain in his back was blinding. He ran over to Matthews and looked at his hand. It didn't seem to be too serious, luckily the bullet only grazed the fleshy outside part of his hand. Jim wrapped a handkerchief around the wound and turned sharply when Ketchum approached.

"Watch what you're doing," Jim yelled as he yanked the rifle away from him, "Matthews could have been killed."

"I'm sorry, Mr. West. I'm really sorry, Mike."

"Not much damage done this time," Matthews replied, "Just next time ask questions first and shoot later."

"Mr. Matthews, that doesn't look like it will need stitches so I'll leave the choice up to you whether or not we head back to town."

"No, I'll be fine, I really want to stay."

Three hours later the men announced they were ready to leave. They had each shot a rabbit and Matthews had bagged a seven-point buck. Jim showed them how to dress them and hang them from their saddles. Jim tried to work the kinks out of his back as they slowly made their way back to the hotel.