One time--it was in the spring of 1877--Frank and Jesse James rode down to the bank of the "River of the North." Piedras Negras is a favorite crossing place, both for Mexican cattle thieves and American outlaws. To this point came Frank and Jesse James. The river was high and the crossing difficult. It was not the season for successful raiding, and the enterprising Mexican raiders had turned their attention to the business of revolutionizing their own country. In this pious undertaking they had not met with that degree of success which justified them in rejoicing. The lazaroni, gathered at Piedras Negras, were particularly ill-humored, and the lonely Texan who came in their way could expect nothing better than to be plundered. Such was the situation of affairs when Frank and Jesse James arrived on the Texas side of the river in front of the wretched Mexican pueblo. The surly "greaser," who acted as the Charon at that point, was even more surly than usual. But the boys had passed that way before, and the ferryman had a vivid recollection that one Estevan Sandoval, who had molested them on one occasion, was now no more in the land of the living. He complied with the usual tedious alacrity of his countrymen to set them across the stream. There was an unusual number of ill-looking fellows about the place, a fact which did not escape the immediate attention of the boys. There were regular brigands from the passes of the Sierra Madres; thieves from Matamoras, cut-throats from Saltillo; smugglers from all along the border, and rogues of all grades. The boys knew there was "fun ahead."