All language subtitles for S1E3-Franck and Jesse James-S1E3-

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The official newspaper files of the early West record many stories of famous and notorious characters of that period.

Among them, Frank and Jesse James, trained in the bloodthirsty school of border warfare, they rode rush on from 1866 to 1882 through four states of the Middle West to become the most widely known bank and train robbers in the annals of American crime.

On a cold night, January the 5th, 1875, a group of detectives acting on a tip-off at the James Boys were in the old homestead in Jackson County, Missouri, silently surrounded the farmhouse of Dr. Samuels.

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In order to light up the house from inside, so as to make targets of the inmates, the men tossed in a metal bomb-type flare.

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Jesse's mother, trying to snuff out the bomb, pushed the kerosene-loaded object into the fireplace.

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It's unbelievable, Jess. Unbelievable.

To think that there are men in this world who throw bombs at innocent people, at a kind, gentle woman, at a harmless little boy of ten.

Just think of it, Jess. Little brother Archie, dead.

I am thinking of it, Frank. I'll be thinking of it for a long time.

We were there night before last. Never saw the family looking better.

Detectives. Cowardly, Yankee mercenaries. That's all detectives are, Jesse.

For a few paltry dollars, they'd bomb their own mothers.

I declare war on them. Here and now. War to the finish.

By heaven, we'll make ghosts out of every one of them that comes our way.

I'll need money for the burying. There's a stage coming up from Hot Springs.

Wouldn't be carrying more than five or six hundred.

It's carrying a detective.

Who told you?

Cole Younger sent word that a young stranger was asking a lot of questions and heading this way.

He said he smelled like a detective. To stay out of town.

If we rode hard, we could just catch that stage.

This one will be from Bon. Poor little Archie.

I'm Matt Clark. Railroad detective.

The young lady across the way is Frankie Adams, my partner on this case.

As far as anybody else is concerned, we're strangers.

Strictly on our own as we move into Clay County, the stronghold of Frank and Jesse James.

Frank and I were only part of the network, closing in slowly but surely on the James gang.

Come on out, folks. Meet the boys.

Open that strong box, Chad, and clean it out.

Don't forget the registered mail.

Anything you'd rather keep for yourself, Grandpappy, put it right here in the bank where it should be safe and sound.

As one Southerner to another, sir, I find your conduct outrageous.

Why, a thousand pardons, Colonel. I should have known you were a Southerner.

You may keep the watch as a souvenir of this occasion.

Well, then you must be Jesse James.

Maybe so, Colonel. But you better not say that again until I'm 20 miles away.

How do you do, miss?

What brings you to our fair state of Missouri?

Well, I, uh... I've just been made new postmistress at, uh, at Kearney.

Looks like people around here are gonna have pretty good reason for answering their mail.

I haven't got much money, but...

Well, that's all right. Keep it. And get back in the coach where you'll be more comfortable.

Thank you.

Everything, mister, right into the strong box.

What's your name?

Pat Lassiter.

Frank, have we any relations named Lassiter?

No. That's a good old Southern name, but he's not one of us. He talks like a treacherous Yankee.

Fred, you're right. Happened to be born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio.

I hear tell that's a real live steamboat town. What are you doing way out here?

Buying cattle.

I know where you can pick up some mighty fine Jersey beef steers.

I'd have to be awful drunk to buy Jerseys for meat.

Either somebody's pulling your leg, mister, or you're pulling mine.

What might your business be, young fellow?

I'm a horse trader from Alabama.

Alabama? Did you fight in the war?

Sure did, sir.

Name your rank, regiment, and commanding officer.

I was a private soldier. My regiment was the 22nd Field Artillery.

My commanding officer's name was...

No such regiment, boy. You're lying.

This must be that Yankee detective we heard about.

Must be. Let's see what you got in your pockets.

Until he was shot, I didn't know another detective had been traveling with me.

His tragic mistake was my salvation.

Carney was a county seat, not much bigger than a one-horse town, but lively for its size.

Frankie had taken her job in the post office,

which turned out to be little more than a booth at the local grocery store.

Her orders were simple enough.

She was to be on the lookout for letters bearing any one of the many agencies used by the James boys and their gang.

I took her room as close to the post office as I could find, still playing out the role of cattle buyer.

May I have a stamp for this, please?

That'll be five cents.

You're new here, aren't you?

Yes, sir.

I don't mean to appear bold, but it does seem like we've met before.

Well, we might have. I've met quite a few people in the last few weeks, although I don't remember you.

And that's the trouble when a man's business keeps him on the road.

It doesn't give him much of a chance to make friends.

That depends upon how fast you travel.

What's your business, if I may be so bold?

Bank examiner.

Next time I'm passing through, I'll mail another letter.

Davis.

Anything in general delivery for Lassiter?

Matt, that man that just left, that's Jesse Jane.

By the time I got a horse in the livery stable, he'd be long gone.

What makes you so sure it was Jesse?

Those blinking eyes. That's the man that held up the stage.

How could I ever forget them?

What'd he come in for?

To me, I guess.

Mr. Chadwell Pierce. General delivery, Kansas City. Open it up.

This paper is all the mailer is for you, Mr. Lassiter.

If you'll excuse me, I think I'll shake up the stove a little.

It's getting chilly in here.

Dear sir, my brother and I will be visiting our sister in Kansas City at the end of the week.

If your cousins have their wagons, we can head west to make our fortunes.

Give my regards to the cousins.

Yours truly, Mr. Jansen.

What do you make of it?

Nothing much.

What are we going to do about it?

We're going to go to Kansas City and deliver this in person to Mr. Chadwell Pierce.

Who knows?

Might be our chance to walk right into Jesse right into a trap.

Good day, miss.

Good day, Mr. Lassiter.

It was simple enough to get Frankie placed in the Kansas City post office handling general deliveries.

I hung around in the back room with the employees.

We got no action until the end of the week.

Then on the 18th of February...

You got anything in general delivery for Pierce?

Pierce?

Yeah, Chadwell Pierce.

There's one letter for you, sir.

Thanks.

See you later, Frankie.

Okay, man.

This is what we've been waiting for.

It was our hope he'd lead us to the Kansas City hideout of the James gang.

Make sure I'm not bothered.

About now, it was beginning to feel pretty good.

Feeling that at last we were getting somewhere after all our pains taking work.

I understand.

We're not interested in banks this trip.

We've got just a half an hour before train time,

and we're gonna need a real good excuse

to keep the sheriff away from us.

There comes just what we're looking for,

some real important gentlefolk.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Be nice and quiet, Uncle.

You'll stay alive to tell your kinfolk all about it.

Beg your pardon, ladies.

My friends and I are gonna keep company with you

for about half an hour.

But if you make any trouble,

you'll likely get those feathers shot right off your hats.

Head for the railroad tracks.

Get us there safe and sound,

and we're liable to do the same for you.

Ted, tell the sheriff if he gets curious,

there's liable to be three less people in Waterville.

Okay, Ted.

Come on.

Let's go.

Come on.

Had to thing about a beefpin crew in Waterville,

inch by inch among those tureen numbers sending

Hurry up, boys.

You'll be here in a couple minutes.

The folks around here will talk about this day

for years to come.

Yeah.

They'll even make it bigger than it is.

They'll say it was the day Jesse and his gang kidnapped

the whole town of Waterville and then held it hostage

while they robbed the 845.

And with a hotel full of detectives in Kansas City.

I'll bet they'll say it was the day Jesse and his gang

kidnapped the whole town of Waterville

and then held it hostage while they robbed the 845.

Yeah.

Ha, ha.

Bud, keep an eye on the citizens.

Joe, you take care of the engineer.

Ed, bring up the wagon.

The rest of you boys take care of the passengers.

Come on, Rick.

Let's make it quick.

Let's go.

Get that wagon.

Come on.

Come on.

Let's go.

Back in Kansas City, I alerted the authorities

on Jesse's being in the vicinity.

We no sooner got word of the robbery

than the wires started humming.

I was part of a large posse that searched for two days.

We'd begun to think that Jesse had gone to earth

like so many times in the past when suddenly,

on the morning of the third day, the group I was with

had a lucky break.

We came suddenly on a train of freight wagons.

We were about to ride on around when it occurred to me

that Jesse had used a wagon in the robbery

and had also mentioned wagons in his letter.

Give me those binoculars.

There was Jesse himself riding alongside one of the wagons.

I was sure of it.

Let's go get him.

Here comes the law.

We're not around.

Run and pull over.

We'll make a stand.

The gaffer!

It's no use, Frank.

We'll have to leave it.

We'll have to leave it.

There's a combination of safe.

Open it up.

From then on, Jesse was doomed.

Sooner or later, one of the raw recruits he was always

picking up would turn on him for that $10,000 reward,

which is, of course, what finally happened.

One evening in January 1882,

I was in the office of the Kansas City Chief of Police

on a matter that had nothing to do with Jesse James.

You Mr. Robert Ford?

Bob Ford.

What's so important that couldn't wait till morning?

I hear tell there's a $10,000 reward out for Jesse James,

dead or alive.

That's right.

What makes a young fellow like you think he can earn it?

Ever hear tell of Charlie Ford?

Can't say that I have.

He's my brother.

He's one of Jesse's gang.

He's with Jesse right now.

And what kind of help do you want from us?

Me and my brother want to do it legal.

You deputize me and I'll do the rest.

Sit down, son.

Sit down.

And you have ideas of getting in with the gang?

That's right.

Charlie's been bragging me up.

Jesse's getting kind of desperate for men.

What do you think?

Well, he's taken all the risk.

What does he got to lose?

Take this young man out and have him deputized.

Thank you, Captain.

Frankie Adams and I happened to be in St. Joe, Missouri

in the spring of 1882.

We didn't know it until later, but Jesse James and his family

were there too, living under an assumed name in a little rented

house up at Lafayette and 13th Street.

It was a Monday morning, the 3rd of April.

Jesse and Charlie Ford had been out back in the stables grooming

and feeding the saddle horses.

Charlie had stopped in the kitchen to talk to his brother Bob.

It was an unusually warm day for April, so Jesse opened the door

to the street and took off his coat.

Then feeling that his guns might arouse suspicion and anyone

passing outside, he took them off too.

The guns were both business-like.45s, one a Colt,

the other a Smith and Wesson.

Unknown to Jesse, Bob Ford was watching him closely,

had been watching him for days now, waiting for a chance

to catch Jesse unarmed.

This began to look like the moment he was waiting for,

so he alerted his brother Charlie.

Hot day.

Yeah, it is.

Great racehorse, that Skyrocket.

Yeah.

Kind of dusty, though.

Jesse turned his back.

It was his last mistake.

Jesse James died as violently as he had lived.

The two Ford brothers ran to the nearest telegraph office

and notified the authorities that Jesse James was dead.

Word spread rapidly.

The morbidly curious began coming from all directions.

Because we were in town at the time, Frankie and I were called in

to help with the identification, for only a few detectives

had ever seen Jesse face to face and lived to tell about it.

Well, Frankie, I guess we can close the files on the James gang.

Don't be too sure about that.

His brother's still around.

I wouldn't worry about Frank.

He hasn't ridden with Jesse for a long time.

It's only his loyalty to Jesse that's kept him from coming out of hiding.

I'll make you a bet he turned himself in before six months.

I'll have you know, sir, I never make bets.

It's a sure thing.

It's a sure thing.

Thank you.