It is a trite old saying that "one crime begets another," and in the life of Jesse and Frank James it is well illustrated. When the war closed and the occupation of the guerrilla, under color of authority, was gone, the James Boys were loth to change the exciting and dangerous vocation to which they had become inured by nearly four years of almost ceaseless activity. Other guerrillas, who had been their comrades in so many desperate struggles, which had made their very names a terror, had surrendered themselves when the bond of national union had been repaired, and returned to peaceful pursuits; but Jesse and Frank James affected to despise the ordinary walks of life and refused to tread other than paths which bristled with danger and anxiety. Both were sorely wounded, and a period of recuperation was necessary; and this respite from the turmoils of bandit life was employed in the conception of bold schemes by which to enlarge the notoriety of their names and to accumulate wealth.

When they had somewhat recovered from their wounds, Mrs. Samuels returned to her old home, in Clay county, while the boys paid her occasional visits as opportunity offered, but generally keeping themselves well hidden in the fastnesses of Jackson county. In the latter part of 1866, Jesse James was attacked with a severe type of malarial fever, which the exposure he had to endure so intensified that he determined to secretly visit his mother and place himself under her immediate care. The record which he had made during the war rendered him amenable to the vengeance of a large number of the residents of Clay and adjoining counties, who had suffered by his desperate acts. Consequently, Jesse knew that eternal vigilance was necessary, but hoped to so conceal his presence at the Samuels' homestead that no one would suspect his location or condition. But in this he was deceived, for only a few days had elapsed after his arrival at home when, by some means unknown to the writer, it was discovered that Jesse had taken up at least a temporary residence with his mother.

It was a bitter cold night in the month of February, 1867, that a band of six persons, each of whom had a special grievance to revenge, knocked at the door of Dr. Samuels' residence and demanded immediate admittance. Jesse was in a bed up stairs, but he was the first to hear and understand the peremptory challenge, as it were, of the men outside. Hastily drawing on his pantaloons and boots, he grabbed his two heavy pistols and looked out of the window where, by the light refracted by the snow, he saw six horses and only a single man. He knew then that the house was surrounded and all chance of escape lay in a bloody fight. He silently descended to the first floor, where Dr. Samuels was rattling the door and explaining to those awaiting admittance that the lock was out of repair so that the key would not work readily. This was a ruse, however, to secure time for Jesse who, Dr. Samuels hoped, would be able to escape through a back window. Locating the voice of one of the men who was threatening to break in the door, Jesse fired through the panel and a stifled groan told him that his aim had been perfect. On hearing the shot, the other five rushed to the front of the house. Jesse threw the door partly open and the light from the snow made the men outside easy targets for his unerring aim, while he was so hidden by the door and darkness within that the attacking party could not fire with the least accuracy. In half the time it has taken the reader to even scan this report three of the six men were lying dead in the snow and two others were desperately wounded, while the other fled in mortal terror.

Suffering, as he was, from a very high fever, Jesse lost no time in mounting his horse, and with a hurried good-bye, he again rode into the wilderness, leaving his mother and her family with the dead and wounded. It was a ghastly scene, there upon the white-shrouded ground, one man dead on the doorstep, two others stiff and frozen in their own blood which crimsoned the yard, while the groans from the wounded made the place more hideous. Dr. Samuels notified his nearest neighbor as soon as possible and with the assistance he secured, the two wounded men were taken into the house and cared for, while a lonely vigil over the dead was kept until morning. A large crowd collected at the homestead on the following day and removed the bodies, while more than fifty well mounted citizens went in pursuit of the youthful desperado, but after a week's fruitless search they returned to their homes and quiet again brooded over the distressed neighborhood.