JEU BING FLEES
FROM TONG WAR.
CHINESE BOY, ESCAPING FROM
FRISCO, SPENDS HOURS IN
KANSAS CITY.
Hides in Union Depot to
Evade Prying Enemies
of His Family.
So that he, at least, might escape the tong war in San Francisco in which an uncle has met death and in which his relatives are all involved, Jeu Bing, a Chinese boy, was spirited from the California city at night and with $500 in gold in his pocket was placed aboard a train for Chicago. His ticket called for a change of trains at Kansas City, and he spent a couple of hours yesterday morning in the Union depot. The boy has letters to several Chinese merchants of Chicago and it will rest with them as to whether he continues East or remains there. A price, it is said, has been placed on Jeu's head by the tong faction said to be responsible for the death of his uncle.
Jeu is 16 years old. He was born in San Francisco's Chiatown and was left motherless when a little child. The boy attended the Presbyterian Sunday school there and acquired the English language rapidly. With his knowledge of the Chinese tongue and his familiarity with the denizens of his section of the city he was frequently called on by the authorities as an interpreter. It was while engaged in some of these cases that he gained the enmity of influential Chinamen who were his father's rivals in business.
MARKED FOR DEATH.
After the earthquake, Jeu was constantly in demand. The authorities wanted information on the mysteries of the Chinese section. They thought that they could get it from Jeu. If they did, it is a secret, for Jeu declares that he knew nothing of the underground passages and the hovels and haunts of the criminal Chinese. After the restoration of Chinatown much of the blame for the activity of the authorities was laid to the Bing family.
Then came the tong wars. How his family were interested in these, Jeu could or would not say. It was sufficient that there was bad feeling, he said, and to make matters worse his uncle was one of those who was stabbed in the back one night. His body was found the next day. There was much excitement in the Chinese quarter. There were other assaults and the other members of the Bing family remained indoors. Two weeks ago a friend notified them that Jeu was one of the Chinamen on whose head a price had been put by one of the tongs.
Friendly Chinamen were called in consultation. The authorities, who were told of the threat, suggested that Jeu secure the names of some of the Chinamen suspected and they would be arrested. He was unable to do this, and at a friendly council it was decided to send Jeu away from the city.
DONNED WOMAN'S DRESS.
This was the hardest part of the programme. It was known that the house was under surveillance, and it was with difficulty that Jeu was spirited out. He was dressed in a woman's walking suit with a heavy veil, and in this costume made his way to the railroad depot, where a detective purchased his ticket. He had a purse containing $500 in gold, the most of which he brought to Kansas City with him.
Arriving here early yesterday morning, Jeu presented a note to Station master Bell. The latter escorted him to Matron Everingham, who made the boy comfortable and kept him out of sight until the time for departure of his train to Chicago. The boy feared that if his presence in the depot became known some Chinamen, enemies of his family, might telegraph to San Francisco and that members of the tong who were sworn to kill him would follow.
Jeu was an entertaining conversationalist and also a good quizzer. He asked hundreds of questions of the "red caps" as to the size of the city, the number of Chinese in the town and also expressed wonder that there was no Chinese quarter and no Chinese servants. He took the names of several who had been kind to him and said that he would send them a little token of his regard when he returned to San Francisco, which he hoped would be soon.
Jeu said that he was a nephew of Lee Bing, the deceased Chinese philanthropist of St. Louis. Over a score of members of the Bing family, he said, came to America about a quarter of a century ago. Many of them are dead, while some live in El Paso, Chicago and New York. The rest all live in San Francisco.
