The point then was to find out where the work was done. Mr. Wood had visited the New York State agency office in Fayette Street and I arranged for him to go there again the next morning (Friday), he to tell the representative, Mr. Ferry, that some friends would call to be assisted in preparing their votes. We agreed that my name would be "Phillip Brady," from West Chazy, Clinton County, New York.
Friday morning I equipped myself as became a private soldier, in a uniform much worn and shabby. One of my men, Mr. Babcock, accompanied me, he was similarly attired. We provided ourselves with "2 hour" passes from the Camden Street Hospital, and sicker looking convalescents never were seen outside of a hospital. When we arrived at Ferry's office we appeared much exhausted. Mr. Wood introduced me, and then I insisted on Mr. Ferry's reading my pass so that he would know exactly who I was; I told him I wanted to vote for Mr. Lincoln, because he was the soldier's friend.
LUCIUS F. BABCOCK
He went in an adjoining room and brought out one of the same powers of attorney that Mr. Wood had shown me the day before, for me to sign; the jurat was executed and the ink was not yet dry on it. To give myself more time to examine, I hesitated in signing my name, I was so sickly (?) and weak, I had Mr. Ferry help guide my hand. I had by this time located Mr. "Arthur" in the next room.
Mr. Ferry then discovered he had no Lincoln ballots, but said he expected them from the printer. He volunteered, if I would leave it to him, to put in a proper ticket, and mail it for me, to which I consented. I told him I did not know when I might get another pass.
Ferry gave me a plug of tobacco and a pair of socks, to illustrate, I suppose, the Empire State's interest in her volunteers.
Babcock then went through the same process, which gave me all the time needed to survey the surroundings, whereupon we left.
Mr. Wood remained, but came out afterwards and met me by appointment, on Charles Street. He was startled at the condition of affairs in the State Agent's office, where a corps of men were engaged in forgery, and did not want to return there, but was persuaded to go back and put in the day. The character and magnitude of the crime prompted us to great secrecy.