"Where are you going?" was the first remark made by Jesse James.
"I am looking for work," was Wicher's reply.
"What kind of work do you want, and where do you expect to find it?" asked Jesse, his pistol still pointing full in poor Wicher's face.
"I have been used to farm labor, and hope to find something to do on some farm in the vicinity," responded the detective.
Jesse James smiled contemptuously and then gave a sharp whistle, which brought to his side Clell Miller and Frank James, whose near presence Wicher had not thought of. The conversation then continued. Said Jesse:
"You don't look much like a laborer, nor is there any appearance of a tramp about you except in your clothes. Now I want you to acknowledge frankly just what your purpose is in this part of the country."
The detective began to realize how critical was his position, and that unless the most fortuitous circumstance should arise in his favor his chances of escape were exceedingly small. But with the same coolness he made reply:
"Well, gentlemen, I am nothing more than a poor man, without as much as a dollar in my pocket, and what I have told you as to my purpose is true. If you will be good enough to let me proceed, or furnish me with means by which I can secure work I shall be thankful."
At this the bandits laughed scornfully, while Jesse James proceeded with the examination: "I think you are from Chicago, and when you arrived at Liberty a few days ago you wore much better clothes than you now have on; besides, it seems that you and Moss (the sheriff) had some business together. Say, now, young fellow, haven't you set out to locate the James Boys, whom you have found rather unexpectedly?"
Wicher then saw that he was in the hands of his enemies, and his heart beat in excited pulsations as he thought of the young wife he had so recently wedded, and from whom an eternal separation appeared certain. Dropping his head as if resigning himself to cruel fate, Wicher hoped to deceive his captors, and in an unguarded moment be able to draw his pistol and fight for his life. Like a flash from a hazy cloud, the detective thrust his hand into his bosom and succeeded in grasping his pistol, but ere he could use it the bandits sprang upon him, and in the grip of three strong men he was helpless. He was then disarmed and firmly bound by small cords which Frank James produced. Clell Miller went into the woods and soon returned leading three horses, on the largest of which Wicher was placed and his feet tied under the horse's belly. A gag was placed tightly in his mouth and Jesse James, mounting behind, the desperadoes rode into the deepening twilight of the woods with their victim. They crossed the Missouri river at Independence Landing, and just before day they halted in the black shadows of a copse in Jackson county. Here they prepared for the punishment and execution of their prisoner. Wicher was taken from his horse and bound fast to a tree; the gag was removed from his mouth and then the bandits tried to extort from him information concerning the plans of Pinkerton and the number and names of the detectives he had engaged in the attempt to capture the outlaws. Though they pricked him with their bowie-knives and bent his head forward with their combined strength until the spinal column was almost broken, and practiced other atrocious torments, yet Wicher never spoke. He knew that death was his portion and he defied the desperadoes and dared them to do their worst. Finding all their endeavors fruitless, Jesse and Frank James murdered their victim; one of them shooting him through the heart and the other through the brain. The body was then carried to the nearest highway, where it was left to be found next day by a farmer who was driving into Independence.