The London Times was then, as now, the great newspaper authority of England. Its financial editor, whose suggestive name was Samson, was currently said to have more power than the Queen. Five lines favorable from Samson’s pen in the financial columns of the Times assured the success of an enterprise. Five lines unfavorable were equivalent to a death warrant. It was customary with promoters to submit their plans to Mr. Samson before submitting them to the public. The directors of the New Mexico Land and Silver Mining Company followed this custom and received a somewhat cryptic answer which, however, they construed to be favorable. The issue was brought out with the skill of trained hands. Everything pointed to a successful outcome. But the very next day, Samson came out with a double-barreled blast. Before the Times reached the country, a small avalanche of subscriptions poured in. But in the city, after a large first day’s business, the promotion fell flat. Nevertheless, the directors stood manfully by their guns. They received space in the Times to answer. They put up a bulldog sort of fight. The old admiral in particular was as belligerent as when he paced a man-of-war. There was somewhat of a reversal of public opinion in our favor. More than half the capital stock was subscribed for and we might have pulled the issue through, but it seemed to me that the company was overburdened to start with, that it must labor under too many handicaps of distrust to operate successfully, and against the judgment of the directors I withdrew the properties and the incident was closed. All the subscribers received their money back, without cost or abatement. No investor lost a cent. An incident shortly after my arrival served to illustrate in a pleasant way my relations with W. C. Ralston at that time. I was asked to call at the Oriental Bank, the agency for the Bank of California, and going there the following day, was ushered into the presence of the president, an impressive looking man of affairs. “I have here,” he said, “a cable from W. C. Ralston, president of the Bank of California, advising us to give Mr. A. Harpending credit for any sum he wants. This is an unlimited order and as you probably intend to make heavy drafts on us, I thought it advisable to inquire beforehand how much you were likely to want.” I laughed and told him I had all the money I needed, but if I happened to want accommodation I would certainly call for more. The story is immaterial in itself, except as an illustration of Ralston’s offhand way of doing business, and his confidence in me as his friend. Another pleasant incident was the renewing of my acquaintance with Alfred Rubery, who again becomes a leading figure in this story. He was the same old Rubery of the “Chapman days.” John Bright, his illustrious uncle, was at the height of his prestige and power, and Rubery himself was in the swim with the biggest kind of social and political fish.