"You may be sure I was thoroughly alarmed, and it required some effort to speak distinctly. At last I managed to say in a tolerably low tone, 'I wish you would read this letter which I have brought.' The pistol was lowered and he reached out his hand to take the letter from the breast-pocket of my coat. Meanwhile, Frank kept me under cover of a pistol. Jesse secured the letter, and commenced to read it. I watched his features closely. A change came over his countenance. The cold, stern look relaxed, and his face put on a sunny smile as he read on. When he had finished, he turned to Frank and said, 'I guess this is all right.' Then he turned to me and said, 'So you are a kinsman of Colonel----?' 'I am,' I replied. He continued, 'He is a good friend of ours, and I reckon you're all right. You wanted to see the James Boys. You see before you what is left of them. I guess you had better give us your pistols to keep for you until you are ready to leave again, for you know we are the only armed men allowed around our place. This is a very odd world anyhow. We do not trust anyone.' 'I have but one, and here it is,' I said, presenting it to him, while I held the muzzle. He took the pistol and thrust it into a side-pocket, and turning full toward me, he said with a smile on his face, and a merry twinkle in his bright blue eyes: 'So you wanted to see the _notorious_ outlaws?' 'Yes.' 'Well, did you expect we wore horns, and had split feet, and spouted fire and brimstone, eh? But you see you are mistaken. There are a hundred, yes, a thousand, worse men along the borders here than the James Boys. But they have not been lied about as we have been; they have not been hunted all over the states as we have been; they have not been so grossly misrepresented and abused, and we must bear not only our sins, but the sins of many others. It is a pretty hard fate, young man.' The hard, unpitying expression came upon his features once more, but it was only for a moment, and the cloud passed away, and his countenance was illuminated by a smile that was genial and pleasant, and whoever could have gazed into the face of Jesse James at that moment, would not have concluded that he was a desperado and an outlaw. "'I suppose,' said Frank, 'that you will accept an outlaw's invitation to his humble retreat?' 'Most gladly,' I said. [Illustration: The Home of Frank James, in Texas.]