Three years ago the papers throughout this country were filled
with the advertisements of the Union Securities Company, selling
the stock of the Boston Greenwater Copper Company. It was stated
that the mine had cost $200,000 and that so much ore was in sight
that an offer of $400,000 had been refused. The Union Securities
Company, with offices in New York and in Goldfield, Nevada,
started the stock at forty-five cents and lifted it to a dollar.
It was merely another name for John Grant Lyman. Not only did the
Union Securities company sell the stock to the public, but it
also offered it to brokers at thirty-seven and a half cents, on
their guarantee that it would not be sold by them at less than
forty-five cents. The brokers began getting contracts for the
stock and then were told that the Union Securities Company was
all sold out.
Shortly thereafter, confederates of Lyman came to these brokers
and offered stock to them at fifty cents a share; and the Union
Securities Company at the same time telegraphed the brokers that
it wanted all the shares it could get at sixty cents. That forced
the brokers to buy of confederates; but when they shipped on the
stock to the Union Securities Company, expecting to get sixty
cents a share for it, Lyman was gone. It had not cost him much.
He owed the newspapers of this country $150,000 for advertising,
which went unpaid. He reaped $300,000 profits. Boston Greenwater
Copper stock can still be found in many a stocking--of humble
folk.
"SALTING" WITH A CIGARETTE
It is not, however, always the city promoter who furnishes all of
the crookedness. He himself may be deceived by those who sell him
the mine. Some of the most thrilling stories in literature might
be written about salted mines. The sale of the Bear's Nest Mine,
and the special train expedition to the salted Bear River placer
field; the sale of the Mulatos Mine to a set of Chinamen, and
scores of other instances in American mining history, have been
regarded rather as big jokes than as great lessons. And as to
such large jesting we advance in finesse. The old way of salting
a placer or a quartz vein with a shotgun is now antiquated.
A little while ago a party of capitalists bought a Nevada placer
on what they thought to be strictly a "cinch" basis. With their
own hands they collected the specimen dirt from all over the
claim, and they watched a Mexican miner pan the dirt at the
creek. The pans showed up beautifully. They bought the claim.
Later, it proved worthless. Afterward they remembered that the
Mexican smoked cigarettes all the time he was panning, and that
he was careless in expectorating, as well as in knocking the
ashes off his cigarettes. The truth was that the highly
intelligent Greaser was using the cigarette trick in salting the
pan. There was much fine gold in his cigarette and under his lip!