At age of 30, before leaving San Francisco]
In four months after the diamond fraud was exposed I had converted into cash everything tangible I possessed on the Pacific Coast. Although the sacrifice I made was enormous, I realized more than a million and a quarter dollars, which was as good or better than $5,000,000 to-day--a fortune ample to supply the most extensive and up-to-date wants of modern times.
The great mistake of my career, entirely apart from monetary reasons, was this hastily taken resolution to seek the shades of private life. Had I faced the music, like all the rest--like Ralston, Lent, Roberts, Dodge and one or two other original “dupes,” I would have outlived every trace of suspicion just as they did themselves. And I am glad to give evidence at this late date, long after all of them are dead, that they were as innocent as children throughout the whole transaction--were the unhappy victims of a costly confidence in men.
But as I took a pessimistic view of things in general and saw fit to withdraw from public view, perhaps I have not so much reason to complain because, in my absence from the world, Dame Rumor was busy with my name.
Three alleged histories of San Francisco, which profess to give an accurate narrative of events, devote much space to the diamond field fraud. Considering the mass of documentary evidence easily accessible, the misstatements of many facts and the omission of others is noteworthy and may call into question the entire accuracy of all these works. To go no further, they all agree that the losses of stockholders were enormous, claim that they brought suit in the State of New Jersey against Arnold and Slack, but never recovered a cent. Lent’s suit in Kentucky, the only place where such an action could be maintained, is not mentioned, nor the $300,000 which Ralston contributed to make good. Under these conditions I should not feel hurt because they surmise that the plot was conceived in the “active brain of Asbury Harpending.”
I returned to Kentucky, made considerable investments in agricultural land and settled down to play the part of the country gentleman. My estate was one of the finest in Southwestern Kentucky and became a center of hospitality in its region. And there I made another grave mistake--not to remain content with the finest existence in the world, that of an independent owner and tiller of the soil.