I communicated this desire to Alfred Rubery one day, just as the expression of a wish. Rubery, who knew all the ropes and all the ins and outs of London, pondered a few moments and said he thought it might be arranged. I was overjoyed at this intimation, but could not exactly see how, though my friend had an odd way of doing things seemingly impossible, in an everyday fashion. He was of an impulsive character, a most loyal, trusty and affectionate friend, yet nothing on earth could ever jar him out of his marvelous British self-possession. I remember one occasion in San Francisco in the old Chapman days, when Rubery and I were present at a certain meeting, when a wholesale slaughter was on the point of taking place. Just at the crisis I happened to glance at Rubery. He was sitting in his chair with a bored, blasé expression on his face, as if tragedies were so commonplace in his life that they lacked interest and were positively wearisome. This incident has nothing to do with the story further than to illustrate the singular character of the man--a mixture of dash and enthusiasm under strong control. At that time money could accomplish almost anything in England. A few evenings after our conversation, Mr. Rubery waited on me at my rooms, accompanied by a dapper looking person, whom he introduced as an official of the Bank of England, who had access to the accounts kept there by Mr. Samson and who was willing for a reasonable compensation to give me all the information concerning the same I might desire. To which pleasing presentation the official of the Bank of England gravely bowed. Some conversation followed as to the terms and conditions. The official wanted all that was coming, but evidently did not wish to scare off a good customer by an extravagant price. At last he got down to a cold cash proposition. Would I consider, under all the circumstances, £500 excessive for so delicate a service? A bargain was struck readily enough. Much better terms would have been cheerfully granted. The contracting party underestimated his hand. Through this person I secured an accurate statement of Mr. Samson’s transactions. I even was shown checks and cross checks, which I photographed for future use. These proved beyond all question that Mr. Samson was a beneficiary of the Emma mine promotion, that he had profited largely by other deals, and, in short, was faithless to the trust of his employer, and trading on that trust. Here loomed up the outlines of a great dramatic situation, the unmasking of a conspiracy, the righting of many wrongs, by which the villain of the play would be confounded and the innocent come to their own. Only the details needed rounding out to clear the atmosphere and let the curtain fall. I was deeply engaged in these great affairs when I received a cable from Mr. Ralston. It was, in fact, a letter. At the cable rates then in force, it cost over $1,100. When I read it I felt assured that my old friend had gone mad.