Anton M. Holter, owner of a train of wagons, while on the route from Salt Lake City to Virginia City with a large party of emigrants, was overtaken by a fierce mountain snowstorm, during the last days of November, on Black Tail Deer Creek. Fearing that the road would be blocked, he and a Mr. Evanson pushed on as rapidly as possible to the Pas-sam-a-ri, crossing the stream with their teams with great difficulty, the water reaching midway up the sides of the wagon-boxes. Once over, they made a camp near by, to await the abatement of the storm. A Mr. Hughes who had been travelling in company with them, came up with his wagon at a late hour in the evening to the cabin at the crossing, at the door of which he was met by “Dutch John,” its only occupant. John, at his request, went in search of Evanson, who came and assisted in getting the horses and wagons across the river. The night was half spent before the object was accomplished. During all this time, John, in pursuance of Plummer’s general instructions for obtaining information, plied Evanson with questions about Holter’s property and ready means in gold,—possessing himself of all the information that an unsuspicious man would be likely to communicate. A few days later, Holter moved on with his train to Ramshorn Creek, and after making camp, went to Virginia City with two yokes of oxen for sale. On his way he passed Ives and Carter, who, he observed, eyed him suspiciously. Failing to sell his cattle, he left on his return to camp the next day, intending to spend the night at Mr. Norris’s ranche. He had gone well down into the valley, and it was nearly sundown, when he saw Ives, accompanied by one Irving, approaching on horseback. Holter did not know Ives, and had no real fear of an attack; but with that instinctive feeling which regards every stranger with suspicion in a country infested with robbers, he immediately drew and examined his pistol. It was so badly rusted that he could not make it revolve. He replaced it, and, remembering that he had no money, felt equally satisfied to escape or to hazard an adventure. Ives and Irving rode up in front of him, and Ives, impudently, as Holter thought, inquired, “Where are you going?” “Down to Norris’s place,” replied Holter. “Do you know where he lives?” “Yes, I know well enough,” answered the highwayman, and drawing closer to him he asked, “Have you got any money?” Holter drew back in surprise, but answered immediately, “No, I’m dead broke.” “Well, we’ll see about that,” said Ives, drawing and cocking his revolver. “You can see for yourself,” said Holter, drawing forth a memorandum book. “Hand it over here,” said Ives, reaching and taking it. He then proceeded to examine it with some care, but finding nothing in it, with an expression of disgust he threw it away. Turning to Holter, and levelling his pistol full upon him, he continued, “You’ve got money, and I know it. Hand it over, or I’ll shoot you.”