A Manchurian Racketeer

I

THE Orient, like America, has had its racketeers, and the greatest of these was Yu Ta Chuan, Manchurian bandit. Meeting him casually, one would probably have taken him for a retired official. He was tall and aristocratic-looking, with a thin face and piercing dark eyes. His manner was always grave and courteous, and, like all Chinese, he had a great respect for learning and in fact was himself something of a scholar. His outward appearance gave no indication of his ruthlessness, of his lust for power, of his determination to succeed in his chosen career.

It was from him that I learned the rules and regulations of the bandit game in Manchuria. He became my friend when an American engineering firm in North China sent me to take charge of the building of a canal between the Liao-ho and the Shwang Tai Tze rivers. I arrived in Hai Hsien on March 19, 1927.

I had brought with me a considerable sum of money to pay for the sleepers of the light railway, but unfortunately the conditions of the road made it impossible for me to make payments on the day of my arrival. That night I was warned of the possibility of a bandit attack, so I decided to hide this money before going to bed, and I distributed it as follows: 1700 fêngpiao — the local Manchurian currency — under my pillow; five hundred dollars underneath the mat on the floor; several hundred dollars in a woolen shirt, which I threw in a heap of clothes by the bed; one thousand dollars under two tins of kerosene, which were in a box in the adjoining room.

I went to bed at ten, and was fast asleep by ten-thirty; then I was awakened by heavy blows on the window frame of my room and on the door of the next room. Instinctively, I grabbed my pistol from under my pillow and fired two shots into the window. Since the window was of paper, I could not see what was going on outside; but in reply to my shots five or six shots were fired into my room, and at the same time the window was broken in with rifle butts. I replied again with my revolver; but only four cartridges out of the remaining five fired, the fifth having stuck in the barrel. Several more shots came from outside, and, since it was apparent that I could not reply in kind, I went into the next room and armed myself with a heavy stick. Suddenly the door burst open and a man rushed in. I hit him once before I realized that he was Ta Feng Yang, one of my own men. He told me that there were thirty well-armed men outside, and begged me to give them my gun and my money. He said if I refused they would set the house on fire. To avoid that, I handed him my revolver and about half of the fêng-piao notes, which I told him to give the bandits.

He threw the gun into the courtyard, and immediately six men rushed into the room. One of them was armed with a Chinese military rifle and two revolvers, one with a Mauser pistol, two with rifles, and two with big revolvers with revolving drums. Through the open door I saw two more armed men with rifles leveled on the servants’ and staff quarters.

On entering the room, the bandits fired a few shots in the ground, caught me by the arms and bound my hands behind my back, and demanded money. I gave them the fêng-piao and told them that was all the money I had, as I had come to survey and not to make payments. Thereupon they insulted my forefathers in the best Chinese style, and started beating me on the arms and legs.

Then a thorough search of the room took place. The contents of my suitcase were emptied into my blanket; drawers were pulled out from the table, and whatever was inside was thrown on the ground; mats were lifted from the floor; walls were probed. But the money that was found did not satisfy my callers.

They turned on me again and renewed their beatings; but when I refused to answer their questions as to where the rest of the money was hidden, they decided on a more stringent method of making me talk. Some of them had gone into the next room and had found the kerosene. This they had brought back and poured lavishly over a towel. The towel they wound around my neck — and intimated that they would set fire to it if I did not answer their questions. Evidently they were well posted as to the sum of money I had brought with me!

A shout from the next room stopped them. One of the bandits had discovered the bank notes I had hidden in the box under the kerosene tins. They counted them carefully and departed at twelve-thirty, leaving me tied up.

During the raid the Chinese staff was held under the point of a gun, but none of them were robbed. I suppose their things were not good enough, because I found later that the bandits had taken all my linen handkerchiefs and had left me only the cotton ones.

The next day eleven soldiers came from the ’Hsien’ town to make an investigation. Their officer carefully explained to me that they could not take any responsibility for the robbery, because I had not notified the magistrate of my arrival with large sums of money. They spent the rest of their visit eating all the flour that was to be found on the premises, and carefully departed before dark.

II

A few days later, I was working in the field surveying the line when a Chinese coolie brought me a letter and asked for one of my cards as a receipt. After I had given it to him, I had the letter read to me by my Chinese secretary. Here is a translation of it: —

We, Yu Ta Chuan, Pei Feng, and Pei Hei, have learned with great concern of the savage attack made on you by some ‘irresponsible people.’ The authorities accuse us of having done it, but we can assure you that we never employ such brutal means as those of beating our prisoners or of threatening them with fire. Because you are a brave man, we are anxious to establish good relations with you. So, in order to whiten our faces, we will try to find the culprits, punish them severely, and restore your stolen property.

I learned that the men who sent this letter were the three well-known bandit leaders of the district, and that actually they controlled the country. By ‘irresponsible people’ they meant amateur bandits who engage in robberies only when they cannot find work to do in the fields.

Apparently the bandit leaders were very interested in me, for after a lapse of several days I received — again in the field — another letter and a package. The package, sent with their compliments, contained my revolver with the bullet still stuck in the barrel. The letter went on to say this was proof that my new friends had caught some of the men who robbed me; that two of them had been severely beaten; that unfortunately my gold watch, my money, and my clothes had not been recovered, as they had been ‘sent far away.’ All this was very nice, but the last paragraph of the letter was disquieting. It contained an invitation for me to call, unattended, on the bandit leaders, at a near-by village, the following afternoon at four o’clock.

Such an invitation could only mean they wanted something from me. But what? I finally decided that they were going to ask me to pay a large sum of ‘insurance money.’ (It is not unusual in Manchuria for big companies to give the local bandits a certain amount every month, in return for which they are guaranteed protection from all bandits operating in the region.) I was afraid they might expect to get as much as $200,000 (Mexican) a year from us; and I had no intention of giving it to them.

There was nothing for me to do, however, but go to see them; and this I did the next afternoon, reaching the outskirts of the village at the appointed time. I was met there by two sentries, each carrying a rifle, two Mauser pistols, and a lot of cartridges. I felt a little uneasy at first, but they were very polite, and told me the ‘chief’ had sent them to escort me to headquarters. He was staying in a large farmhouse, the courtyard of which was filled with bandits, all well armed. I estimated that there must have been at least eighty of them. My arrival caused much comment and curiosity, but everyone was extremely respectful. This was lucky, for it saved me the bother of worrying about what I should do to uphold my dignity in case of trouble.

After a short wait, I was ushered into the house. Sitting on the k’ang was a tall, aristocratic-looking Chinese. He got up and introduced himself as Mr. Yu Ta Chuan, and asked me those questions which are a prelude to any conversation between strangers in China — my honorable name, my honorable country, the number of celestial signs (my age), and so forth.

When a servant — although he was armed with two Mauser pistols and a rifle — brought some pears and Lung Tsin tea, — it costs more than a dollar an ounce, — I began to feel more comfortable, and soon the bandit chief put me completely at my ease by asking me — a sure sign of friendship — to smoke a pipe with him. This I declined to do, saying that I had never learned how to smoke. He remarked that this was a pity, since opium was the only thing which helped one get rid of the worries of daily life, and that it was also good as a ‘pick-me-up’ after severe physical exhaustion.

Our conversation lingered on general subjects, such as the weather to be expected within the next month, the migration of geese, which had started too early, the prospects of the bean crop, the political situation in China, and the deplorable lack of learning among the new class of officials, until I began to despair of learning why I had been sent for. To ask outright was, of course, impossible. Hiding my impatience, I thanked him for the honor of an invitation to his headquarters, told him that his reputation was great throughout the country, and that the peasants, who held him in high respect, called him ‘Protector of the Poor.’ He returned these compliments by telling me I was a very brave man, and that he had never before heard of anyone who, being attacked by a large group of armed bandits, had dared to shoot at them.

III

By this time more than twenty minutes had elapsed since my arrival, and, according to the Chinese code of manners, we could now get down to business.

‘I hear,’ said the bandit chief, ‘that your company is going to build a canal from the Shwang Tai Tze to the Liao.’

Wondering what this had to do with bandits, I told him it was true.

‘It is a very commendable work,’ he said. ‘It will help navigation a great deal, and will save four days’ run through the loops of the Liao.’

‘I hope so,’ I said, still wondering.

‘I am personally interested in the success of the scheme,’ the chief went on, ‘as I own some boats on the river. Besides that, I have a large farm on the river bank, and I hope it will greatly increase in value.’

So this was the reason for his interest in me.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ I said, ‘and I hope you become prosperous.’

But what he had said was only an introduction to what he wanted to say. We smoked our cigarettes a minute in silence. Then the chief went on.

‘You must need a large number of men to do the work.’

‘I am importing five thousand coolies from South Chih-li Province,’ I told him. ‘I expect them to arrive in three weeks.’

‘Five thousand men! That means an expenditure of at least three thousand silver dollars a day.’

‘A little less; because part of the payment for labor is transferred directly from our office in Tientsin to the men’s families. Locally I’ll only have to buy corn and other foodstuffs.’

The bandit chief looked at me keenly.

‘You know, don’t you,’ he asked me, ‘that grain prices are always quoted here in local currency? If you pay in silver, you’ll lose on the exchange.’

‘I know that, and I intend to buy local currency in Niuchwang — strictly according to needs, for the exchange is not very stable.’

‘Stable!’ he grunted angrily. ‘I should say it’s not stable. You’d better be careful, or your company will lose money. Last year the government held up the exchange artificially at seven to one, before the bean crop was harvested. Then the government bought all the crop with newly issued fêng-piao. After the crop was purchased, the exchange fell to forty fêng-piao to one silver dollar. I was badly hit. From now on, all my savings will be in silver. As a matter of fact, I have lost faith in the government since our chief — Marshal Chang Tso Lin — went to Peking, where he spends our Manchurian money on Chinese politics.’

‘I look for a sudden fall in local currency if things go wrong with the Marshal in Peking,’ I said.

‘I hope they won’t — but we’ve gotten off the question. Tell me, how are you going to manage the exchange and transport of currency from town — Niuchwang? The distance, you know, is long; and the roads are not safe. Our people, I am sorry to say, are not too honest.’

‘The Chinese have the reputation of being the most trustworthy people —’

‘You are entirely too polite. We have many men who cannot resist temptation. As the exchange varies daily on the market, you will not be able to check at what price your currency was bought. And there is the possibility of another difficulty. Suppose your messenger steals the money, but tells you he has been attacked by bandits: you will have no way of verifying his statement.’

At last I had an inkling of where this conversation was leading us. I breathed a sigh of relief inwardly. Outwardly I remained as passive as I could be.

‘Yes, the problem is a difficult one. Thank you for enlightening me on the subject. I see I shall have to attend to the exchange business myself.’

‘That is where I dare to say you are wrong. You might, perhaps, make one, or even two, trips into town successfully. Sooner or later, however, it will be known that you go for money. The next time you do, some irresponsible person will attack you, and you will lose not only your money but your life. I feel a great deal of sympathy toward you, so I want to make you a proposal that will be of benefit to us both.’ He looked at me keenly, but as I made no answer he went on. ‘You see, our problem is just the opposite of yours. We have the trouble of sending our money into Niuchwang, where we keep an account in the Bank of China. By the way, does your company keep its account at the Bank of China or at the Bank of Communications?’

‘At the Bank of China.’

‘What a lucky coincidence! If we make any transactions, it will be as easy for the bank as for us.’

‘I am very sorry,’ I murmured, ‘but I don’t understand exactly what you mean.’

He brushed this lightly aside.

‘You don’t have to stand on ceremony with me. I’ll come straight to the point. I and my associates have to send our earnings, which are usually in local currency, to the bank at Niuchwang. Sometimes there are difficulties, for the soldiers search everyone who enters the town and a large amount of fêng-piao can’t easily be concealed. Therefore, there is always the danger that our money will be confiscated from our agents — whom, as a matter of fact, I don’t trust too much. You, on the other hand, have to import money here. My proposal is this: sell us your checks on Niuchwang. We’ll always be glad to buy them.’

There was no doubt about it: my bandit was a born business man!

‘I realize your scheme is helpful to me,’ I said, ‘but how can we settle the exchange? ’

‘That’s simple. At the market place in the next village there’s a telephone. You can call up Niuchwang and ask the rate of exchange. We can do the same. If there is any disagreement we can always settle it in a friendly way.’

Inwardly I accepted his offer at once, but there was no use hurrying matters. I hesitated a moment, therefore, before answering, but finally said; ‘Very well, I accept your offer. And now, since it is getting dark, I must go home and attend to my business.’

He got up to wish me good-bye.

‘From now on,’ he said, ‘you have nothing to fear here. We are friends. I guarantee that not a hair on your head will be harmed. I shall give orders, also, for the protection of your employees. But I cannot detain you longer. I wish you a peaceful road.’

So with my financial affairs arranged, and my own safety and that of my men guaranteed, I returned home.

IV

My headquarters were at a mudbaked farmhouse, Yu Chia Lo (Mukden Province, Pan Shan District, one hundred and fifty miles northwest of Niuchwang), in which there were three courtyards. One of these was occupied by my office, myself, and twenty soldiers, who were necessary to keep order among the large number of workmen I employed. The second was used for grain stores. I had several thousand men to feed, and all the corn used had to be milled by primitive methods. The third court I turned over to my foreman, mechanics, and other employees.

As my relation with the bandit chief grew more friendly, he dropped in to see me almost daily. He asked me if I could leave a room in the third courtyard for his men, in case any of them were forced to stop overnight in that particular region. I agreed to do so; and I soon found that my farm was strategically placed from a bandit point of view, because it was at a spot where three districts met. It was not unusual for me to have between fifty and a hundred bandits staying in my house overnight, and I gave orders that each of them was to receive a workman’s ration of food. For the chiefs I always kept on hand a supply of tea, fruit, and opium.

Before long, Yu Ta Chuan became my ‘sworn brother.’ The ceremony was very simple. He handed me a list of his relatives with an inscription after each name. This inscription was always the same, and ran in this manner: ‘My mother is your mother, my father is your father,’and so forth.

From the first time I had heard about him, I knew that my ‘sworn brother’ was a man of importance in bandit circles; and I was not surprised, therefore, to learn that he was Chief of Staff of the bandits for the whole province. As such, his work was primarily that of an executive, and only the most important prisoners were under his immediate supervision. I once saw in my third courtyard the son of the governor of Ninguta — a place near the Chinese Eastern Railway, which was about four hundred miles to the north. I was curious to know why anyone from so far away should be there, and I was afterward told that valuable prisoners — the bandits collected a ransom of $50,000 for this particular young man — were kept continually moving about the country until the bandits were bought off.

V

Although Yu Ta Chuan was extremely clever, his authority among the bandits rested not upon his brains, but upon an incident of which the whole countryside knew, and for which all the people, peasants as well as bandits, respected him. Some years ago, when he was only a bandit apprentice, he was caught by the authorities. At the time of his capture he was unarmed, so that there was no direct evidence against him; but it was generally known that he was connected with the bandits. The magistrate before whom he was brought decided to make him talk. With this end in view, he ordered a large hook to be jammed below the bandit’s ribs, and had him hung from a tree. When Yu Ta Chuan lost consciousness, he was cut down and restored to life; and, although this performance was repeated three times, he never uttered a word which could incriminate his associates.

But I, his ‘sworn brother,’ learned more from him than the magistrate had done. It was he himself who told me how the bandits in Manchuria were organized, and I learned to my surprise that bandits were always assigned districts of operation by the central organization. If, as it sometimes happened, they were driven away from their area by soldiers, or if their business became poor, they had to apply to the Chief of Staff of the Province for a new territory to work in.

The office of the Chief of Staff of the bandits in Manchuria was well organized. It was divided into three main subdivisions. These were the Intelligence Department, the Treasury Department, and the Secretarial Department.

Of these, the Intelligence Department was the most efficient. Its agents were numerous and included bank clerks, — who supplied information about bank accounts, checks drawn, and so forth, — officers in the army, — who supplied information about troop movements, — employees of the Chambers of Commerce, — who supplied information about the financial standing of proposed victims, — personal servants, inn owners, cart drivers, and skippers of junks. These last were the eyes and ears of the Chief of Staff.

The information obtained from these various sources was carried verbally or sent by code to headquarters. Such a letter might read: ‘My cousin Mr.— is going to his home to make annual offerings to his ancestors. His business was particularly good this year, and his sales amounted to $200,000, although cash is rather scarce.’ To the Intelligence Department such a letter would mean that a certain rich merchant could afford to pay the bandits $20,000, or 10 per cent of his yearly sales.

The Treasury Department was next in importance. It kept careful track of all the money that came into the bandits’ hands; it handled their investments; and once a year it divided the annual profits among them. Under its jurisdiction were the ‘Insurance Offices.’ One such office was in a wellknown grain shop in the city of Niuchwang.

Anyone contemplating a trip could go there and say: ‘Within the next two months I am going to such and such a place on business. I intend to take with me $25,000 in silver. I should like to inquire if that district, where I understand you have some connections, is safe?’

The answer would be brief and to the point: ‘Two and one-half per cent.’

As soon as the two and a half per cent was paid, the shop would issue a ticket, which was a letter of introduction, with a receipt attached. If, on his journey, the traveler met any bandit, he had only to show this letter and he would be allowed to pass unmolested.

The Secretarial Department was in charge of all correspondence on business matters, and was also entrusted with the writing of warning letters to prospective victims.

The bandits in Manchuria carried on their activities in two ways. The first method, that of kidnaping and holding for ransom, was used chiefly in the districts where the bandits were less numerous than the soldiers. No attack was ever undertaken without careful planning; and when an ambuscade was finally arranged, it was made in a part of the country where the bandits knew government troops would not be on hand. This method required meticulous preparation, correct timing, and skillful execution.

The second method which the bandits used for the extortion of money was far simpler, and was always employed in those districts which they controlled. They sent their victims a letter by messenger, who always brought them back a receipt. The letter stated that the local ‘association for maintaining peace,’ or some association of a similar title, wanted a grant or subsidy. A reply was requested within a definite time. Thereupon a meeting was usually arranged between the bandits and their victims. The matter was discussed at length, and if the victim was convinced that the request came from ‘serious people’ and not from any ‘ irresponsible organization’ he would bargain to the best of his ability, and generally settle for about half the amount demanded. This sum was fixed in such a way that the victim could raise the money without serious difficulty and could usually recover his losses within a year.

If, however, the victim refused to come to terms, his house was attacked. Oddly enough, everyone in the countryside except, the man most concerned knew at what hour such an attack would take place. For example, I was warned not to pass through a certain village one night, as they were ‘going to rob old Mr. Sung.’

When such an attack was made, the victim was kidnaped, and the ransom demanded from the family was usually twice the amount the bandits had asked in the beginning. It was, however, never more than all the man’s cash and other easily liquidated assets. If the family did not come through, the bandits refused to take any responsibility for the consequences. They murdered the man in cold blood, and looted and burned his house as a punishment to the family.

The bandits never attacked native farmers, and only ‘taxed’ them after the opium harvest. As soon as the magistrate’s commission had inspected the poppy fields and collected the tax, the bandits would come and collect exactly the same amount. The farmers did not consider this as robbery, but as a ‘tax of protection’ against loose groups of ‘irresponsible people,’ who might otherwise have come to loot them of everything they possessed. On the whole, the bandits were popular with the farmers, perhaps because they were always careful to pay for whatever they took while staying in a farmhouse. The soldiers, on the other hand, never payed for anything, and the peasants disliked them thoroughly. This was one of the reasons why troops, even if they were sincere in their desire to catch the bandits, had difficulty in doing so. The farmers, shielding ‘their protectors,’ always directed the soldiers to areas uninhabited by bandits.

VI

My own relations with the bandits were extremely pleasant, and our financial dealings were always easily and quickly attended to. Never once was there any argument or disagreement as to the rate of exchange I was to receive for my checks; never once was there any suggestion of ‘insurance money’ from my company, or of personal gifts from myself. The bandits trusted me and I trusted them.

One day, Yu Ta Chuan asked me if I could arrange to order him some 8x Zeiss field glasses from Tientsin. I had a special messenger bring them, and they were in my house three days later. I decided to send them to Yu Ta Chuan as a present. I did so, and sent a card with ‘compliments and best wishes’ written on it in Chinese.

He came that evening to thank me for them.

‘Here is a small gift for you,’ he said, handing me a beautiful jade ornament, a pendant; ‘but it is not at all in proportion to the service you rendered me. I have been thinking —’

‘You overstate the importance of my present,’ I replied. ‘As a matter of fact, I don’t know why you wanted the glasses, for I know your eyesight is extraordinary. Don’t the farmers call you “wild cat” because you see as well at night as in the daytime?’

He completely disregarded the last part of my remark.

‘I’m not going to use the glasses for myself, but they are important for a problem which I have on hand. I should like, therefore, to reciprocate your kindness in getting them for me by rendering you some equally valuable service.’

‘There is really nothing you can do for me.’

He thought for a moment, and then a look of satisfaction spread over his face.

‘The representative from your bank comes here from time to time to check your accounts, does n’t he? In a business like yours I should think you might sometimes forget to mark down an expenditure, and then to make matters right you would have to use your own money. If you want, we could easily hold the man for a time until he agreed to give you a certificate.’

With difficulty I restrained the laughter that rose to my lips, and answered solemnly, ‘That’s most kind of you, but I have no difficulties with the bank. My accounts are in order, and the man only comes here to help me.’

He looked disappointed. ‘You foreigners, of course, have different ways of doing things.’ Then his face brightened. ‘But perhaps there is someone else whose temporary absence would not be a great loss to you.’

‘Well,’ I said jokingly, ‘the only person who annoys me here is the Japanese engineer, who, as you know, is the Chinese Government Inspector of my contract.’

‘Oh, why did n’t I think of that before! But this is a serious matter, and I am ashamed to say —'

Interested to know why the Japanese inspector should be held in such high esteem by the bandit, I decided to carry the matter still further until my curiosity was satisfied.

‘But why is it so difficult? He’s not armed, and he never has a guard. Besides that, you know the governor hates him.’

’If you insist, I’ll tell you the truth. It’s dangerous for us to touch a Japanese. First of all, they have troops in Niuchwang who would certainly attack us. Secondly, if our relations with them were spoiled, where should we buy our pistols and cartridges? We should be reduced to starvation.’

It was not long after this conversation that the canal was finished, and I made preparations to go back to Peking.

The day of my departure, Yu Ta Chuan gave a huge dinner in my honor. The food, which included all the rarest Chinese delicacies, such as bird’s-nest soup, had been ordered in Niuchwang, and the cooks came from there to prepare the feast. The party was a decided success. But for me the high point was reached when the bandit chief made a speech and solemnly presented me with a farewell gift — the gold watch which had been taken from me two years before.