I wired him I would, providing I could go armed.
He answered, “Perfectly satisfactory to me. Meet me at Union Station, Kansas City, Missouri, tomorrow morning.”
I secured several of my old Guerrilla friends to accompany the Governor and myself to St. Joseph, Missouri, unbeknown to the Governor, however, for I did not know how I stood with the people at St. Joseph. I was just playing safety first. I met the Governor at the depot. He asked me what attitude I thought Frank James would take towards him for offering a reward and having Jesse killed. I told him “If Frank wanted to kill him for revenge, he surely would.”
He looked pale, but not half so pale as he did the day Frank surrendered. A heavy reward hanging over Frank James’ head, he made his way past the guards and sergeant-at-arms, stationed at the Governor’s mansion at Jefferson City, the capital of Missouri, and surrendered to Governor Crittenden in his office. On entering his office, Frank said:
“Is this Governor Crittenden?”
“Yes,” was the reply.
“This is Frank James. I came to surrender,” at the same time pulling two heavy dragoon pistols and handing them to the Governor. “Here are arms, Governor, but not all I have, nor will I give them up until I know you will give me protection.”
Frank told me afterwards that “Governor Crittenden’s face will never be whiter when he is dead than it was the day I surrendered.”
I identified Jesse James at St. Joseph, Missouri, to the Governor’s entire satisfaction. Since then it has been said that Jesse was still alive and that it was a wax figure that was buried, but this is all a lie.
There is one good act the James boys did while they were outlaws.