President Alaska Commercial Co.,
director Diamond Co.
Meanwhile, however, handsome offices were engaged, and David D. Colton was installed in all the dignity of general manager. This was long before the date of typewriters, and it required several clerks to answer letters. A large map showing the general outlines and physical characteristics of the 3000 acres claimed by the company was displayed in the office. It showed the relative position of Discovery Claim, Ruby Gulch, Diamond Flat, Sapphire Hollow, and other locations with names equally suggestive of wealth without limit. Many longing eyes were cast on that map by would-be speculators. The company had considered a plan for holding and working what was known as Discovery Claim on its own account, and granting concessions in the remaining territory for so much down in cash and a royalty on the gems recovered.
Some fifteen or more bona fide offers were made to purchase a concession for $200,000 cash and a royalty to the parent company of 20 per cent. Not only that, but the purchasers of such concession would have been able to place stock on the market and sell the shares like hot cakes. Quite a few million could have been gathered in from that source alone. Why not? Even granting that the element of gambling was strong, nevertheless, such a property had a far better backing of apparent value than nine-tenths of the wildcat mining schemes launched every week on the stock exchange.
Not only that, but three other diamond and ruby companies were organized, each with fairly representative men behind them. One of these companies exposed to public view a gem that looked like the headlight of a locomotive, seen through a fog after dark. It was known as the Staunton ruby, and was generally conceded by experts to be a genuine stone of high quality. No one seemed able to give more than a guess at its value, but the opinion was unanimous that only some rich and powerful nation could purchase it, to adorn a scepter or a crown. All of these companies were merely marking time, waiting till the great, proved, unquestioned company should say “play ball” and start a speculative market for everyone.
But no such misfortune happened. On November 11 a telegram was received from Clarence King by the president of the San Francisco and New York Mining and Commercial Company dated from a small station in Wyoming stating that the diamond fields were fraudulent and plainly “salted.” This, of course, caused a wild excitement among the officers of the company. They held a hurried meeting. They were simply stunned. King was reached by wire at once, and agreed to take a party in and prove his statements. A party was at once organized for this purpose. The members were Henry Janin, D. D. Colton, John W. Bost and E. M. Fry.
Clarence King was a geologist and engineer in the service of the United States Government, a man of some professional distinction and of talent in the literary line. It is worthy of note here that some years after the diamond story broke, King wrote a perfervid narrative entitled “Mountaineering in the High Sierras.” In it he described an ascent of Mount Whitney, the highest peak in California, and dragged himself through a series of hair-breadth escapes that put every Alpine adventure in the shade. A geologist by the name of W. A. Goodyear knew something of the region, visited Mount Whitney, made the ascent on a mule with settled habits of reflection and never dismounted till he reached the top, proving that King had never been there at all. All of this Goodyear described in a widely circulated magazine. The laugh that followed broke King’s heart. He died a few months later.
It was this same gentleman who late in the fall of 1872 made up his mind to have a look at the diamond fields. Notwithstanding all of our attempted secrecy, almost anyone could place his finger on our claims. Not only that, but at least two men, Berry and McClellan, had actually been at the fields, saw the old washings and the tools left by the Roberts party, and it was one of these who guided Mr. King to the spot.
Mr. King’s story makes the discovery of the fraud rather a matter of deductive reasoning, whereby little straws of evidence are put together one by one and formed into the nest that holds the egg of proof. It is easier to construct this nest afterwards than before. I heard myself a somewhat different version of the story. In company with Mr. King went a middle-aged German, a sort of cross between a camp follower and a friend. Like a “super” in a great dramatic performance, he did not cut a very large figure. But many years afterward I met him in New York and he told me a very interesting story. On reaching the diamond fields, he said, notwithstanding the intense cold weather, both he and Mr. King began washing for diamonds, and naturally enough found what they were looking for. In fact, the geologist came very near being fooled as badly as anyone else—wanted to leave instantly, and thought of going to San Francisco to have a talk with the directors of the company. But the German gentleman felt differently. He was not overburdened with wealth, had never been in any place before where diamonds could be picked up without even saying, “by your leave,” and he was naturally averse to leaving a place so full of delightful possibilities. So he arranged a brief respite before departure. In the meantime he was washing “dirt” to beat the band and every now and then pocketing a sparkler that he valued at a small fortune. Suddenly he came on a stone that caught his eye and filled him with wonderment. It bore the plain marks of the lapidary’s art. He took it immediately to his principal. “Look here, Mr. King,” he said. “This is the bulliest diamond field as never vas. It not only produces diamonds, but cuts them moreover also.”
King grabbed the half-cut diamond. Everything was clear as day. Beyond the peradventure of a doubt the fields were salted. He hunted out evidence that he had overlooked before, and very soon was in possession of proof quite aside from the partly cut gem, that a wholesale fraud had been committed.
I am not giving this story as a fact—simply offering it for what it is worth, and certainly without any desire to detract from the great service rendered by Clarence King.