These successive failures only strengthened the villains in their determination to rob the train. They awaited its arrival in Red Rock Valley two days after leaving it, with the intention of attacking it there, at the hour of going into camp. When near the summit of the ridge which divides the waters of the Red Rock from those of Junction Creek, the packers, according to custom, rode on ahead of the wagons to select a suitable stopping-place for the night. Three or four men only were left in charge of the teams. The robbers supposed that the treasure was hidden away in some of the carpet-sacks in the wagons, now near the top of the divide. The brisk pace of the pack-horses soon took them out of sight and hearing of their companions in the rear. Assured of this, the robbers, disguised in hoods and blankets, dashed out of a ravine in front of the wagons, and in a peremptory tone, covering the drivers with their shotguns, commanded them to halt. Gathering the drivers together, they ordered them not to move, at their peril; and while Dutch John sat upon his horse, with his gun aimed at them, Marshland dismounted, and engaged in a speedy search of both drivers and vehicles. Unperceived by the robbers, Moody had slipped a revolver into the leg of his boot. He also had a hundred dollars concealed in a pocket of his shirt, which escaped notice. The other drivers had no money on their persons. After disposing of the men, Marshland went to the wagons, where he was fortunate enough to find the carpet-sack containing the letters in which were enclosed the fifteen hundred dollars in greenbacks. Pocketing this, and still intent upon finding the gold, he proceeded to the rear wagon, which fortunately was occupied by Forbes and a sick comrade. As soon as Marshland climbed to the single-tree, Forbes, who had been in wait for him, fired his revolver through a hole in the curtain, wounding him in the breast. With an oath and yell, the robber fell to his knees, but recovering himself, jumped from the wagon, fell a second time, regained his feet, and ran with the agility of a deer to the pine forest. Dutch John’s horse, frightened at the shot, reared just as its rider discharged both barrels of his shotgun at the teamsters. The shot whizzed just above their heads. Moody now drew his revolver from his boot, and opened fire upon the retreating figure of Dutch John, the ball taking effect in his shoulder. Urging his horse to its utmost speed, John was soon beyond reach of pursuit; but had Moody followed him on the instant, he might have brought him down. The packers who had gone into camp, were no less gratified to hear of the successful repulse, than astonished at the bold attack of the freebooters. Marshland’s horse, arms, equipage, and twenty pounds of tea, of which he had rifled a Mormon train a few days before, were confiscated upon the spot.