After the continental raid, on our return to London we sent Irving $3,000 in greenbacks in a registered letter, but in order to have a hold on our three honest friends at headquarters in case of any possible treachery in the future we put the money in the envelope in the presence of a magistrate and had his clerk register it and make it a part of the court record. The envelope was simply addressed "James Irving, Esq., 300 Mulberry street, New York," and of course the officials in London supposed it a private address.
When we returned from Rio we sent another $3,000, $1,000 each for Irving, Stanley and White, and took the same precautions.
Soon after the floods of money coming to us in London Mac sent $15,000 to Irving in another registered letter, without any precautions, however. Irving & Co. did not know what game we were playing, but were very happy over the dividends past and to come. But when they read the cable dispatches in the press about the bank forgeries, their bliss was ecstatic. Each in fancy saw himself decked out in a magnificent diamond pin and ring, spinning along Harlem lane behind a particularly fast pair in a stylish rig. This was their day vision. At night each saw himself in certain resorts ordering unlimited bottles, or seeing New York by gaslight at the rate of $100 a minute, and the Britishers paying for it all. But the lawyers and the Pinkertons between them played Irving and headquarters for fools and knaves. Day after day one of the lawyers visited Mulberry street, and, being tutored by Pinkerton, gave deceptive points to Irving, who, with his two chums, was completely hood-winked and never suspected the game being played on them.
But as I have got somewhat ahead of events in London I will return there and very briefly narrate what was taking place there. Nearly every day Noyes was brought before the Lord Mayor and officially examined, but, acting under advice of his lawyer, he was strictly non-committal. The detectives and officials were convinced he knew all about it, and tried by both threats and promises to make him talk. Baron Rothschild and others of the directors visited him again, but our friend was deaf, dumb and blind, and they were foiled. In time two Pinkerton detectives had arrived in London, and by a series of lucky hits soon began to let in some light on the business.