THE ADVENTURE OF THE UNIVERSITY CLUB
The first step in this narrative is to explain how it happened that the
writer of this book, a muck-raker and enemy of society, was in the
office of Mr. Irwin Hays Rice, president of the Merchants’ and
Manufacturers’ Association of Los Angeles, and chief of the Black Hand,
at the very moment when Mr. Rice was conspiring with his fellow chiefs
for the smashing of the harbor strike. This story is amusing in itself,
and not altogether alien to education.
In April, 1923, I received a letter from the secretary of the University
Club of Pasadena, my home city, asking if I would consent to lecture
before the club on the subject of “The Goose-step.” I replied that I was
busy, and made it a rule to decline invitations to lecture. Then came a
telephone call from a member of the club, begging me to reconsider my
decision; here were a group of men, influential in the community, some
of whom had read “The Goose-step” and thought they could answer me, and
wanted a chance to try. It would be an adventure for them, and might
teach me something. To oblige a friend, I accepted, and the lecture was
announced at a dinner of the club, and the announcement was published in
the local newspapers—upon the club’s initiative, please note.
At once the Black Hand got busy; and a week or two later a gentleman
called at my home, obviously embarrassed and pink in the face,
explaining that he was the president of the University Club of Pasadena.
The executive committee had held a meeting the previous evening and
decided that in view of certain objections, I should be respectfully
requested to consent to have the lecture called off. Knowing my
community, I was sympathetic towards the blushing respectable
gentleman—an ex-naval officer who would have faced the guns of a foreign
foe, but dared not face a new idea. I answered that I would be content
to have the lecture forgotten.
But an hour or two later a newspaper reporter called me up, asking if I
had heard that the action of the University Club had been taken at the
instance of William J. Burns, head of the Burns Detective Agency and
chief of the United States Secret Service. Naturally, I was interested
in that news; as a matter of tactics, when I find a man like Burns after
me, I go to meet him head on. I at once telegraphed, asking Mr. Burns if
it was true that he had called me “a dangerous enemy of the United
States government.” The result was a tangle of falsehoods, and if I
proceed to untangle them, do not think that I am rambling. Before we get
through with this book we shall discover that the big private detective
agencies are an important part of the educational system of the United
States, and so what we learn about Mr. Burns and his methods will be to
the point.
The great detective telegraphed me from San Francisco that my name had
not been the subject of discussion at any time during his visit to Los
Angeles. I was not satisfied with that, and telegraphed again, saying
that I wanted to know if he had mentioned me at any time in Southern
California, and if he had done so, would he say openly and for
publication what he had said against me. In the meantime there had been
published a United Press dispatch from San Francisco, quoting Mr. Burns
as saying that if he had mentioned me, it had been “as a private
individual and not as a government official.” Therefore I pointed out to
Mr. Burns that he could not say anything about me as a private citizen;
whatever he said would be assumed by everyone to be based upon
information he had got as head of the United States Secret Service. This
brought a second telegram from Mr. Burns, as follows:
Replying to your second wire, I made no statements concerning you as a
private citizen or government official at Pasadena or elsewhere, nor
have I ever undermined the character of you or any other person. I
want to also deny that I ever made any statement to the United Press
as stated in your telegram, and for your further information let me
assure you whenever I express myself concerning you or anyone else I
will not hesitate to admit it.
That seemed explicit, and I was prepared to accept it. But you note that
it left the United Press in a bad light; and representatives of the
United Press took the matter up, and wired their head office in San
Francisco, receiving the information that the interview with Mr. Burns
had been given to Frank Clarvoe, one of their most trusted and
experienced men. Mr. Clarvoe had been with Mr. Burns in his hotel room
when the telegram from me arrived, and Mr. Burns had allowed Mr. Clarvoe
to make a copy of this telegram, and had dictated a reply, slowly and
distinctly, so that Mr. Clarvoe could write it down. The manager of the
United Press added that this was evidently one of those frequent cases
where parties talk and afterwards wish to deny it.
In the meantime I had been interviewing the executive committee of the
University Club of Pasadena, holding over the heads of these gentlemen
the threat of a slander suit, and thereby inducing each of them in turn
to state upon exactly what basis he had repeated the statements about
Mr. Burns and myself. So the report was definitely traced to Mr. Irwin
Hays Rice, president of the Merchants’ and Manufacturers’ Association of
Los Angeles, and one of the chiefs of the Black Hand. Mr. Rice, in a
conversation over the telephone, had stated to the secretary of the club
that Mr. Burns had described me as “a parlor pink and a dangerous enemy
of the United States government.”
So now I had a clean-cut issue of veracity between Mr. Rice and Mr.
Burns, and it seemed worth a trip to Los Angeles to find out which was
the liar. I went in on a Monday morning, and fate was unkind to Mr.
Rice—he had been out of town over the week-end, and had not read
anything about the controversy, nor had anyone in the University Club
taken the trouble to call him up and warn him. I took the precaution to
bring my brother-in-law, Hunter Kimbrough, as witness to the interview,
and Mr. Rice received us in his private office. I explained my point of
view: he and I were antagonists on opposite sides of the class struggle;
I had my opinion of him, and freely granted him the right to have his
opinion of me. The only thing I took exception to was the fact that in
discussing me he had made use of the name of Mr. Burns.
Mr. Rice is one of these two-fisted men of action, quite different from
the president of a University Club. His answer was prompt and explicit:
“Anything that I say once I’ll say twice. It is a fact that at a recent
gathering, in the presence of myself and several business men of this
city, Mr. William J. Burns stated that you were ‘a parlor pink and a
dangerous enemy of the United States government.’”
“I thank you, Mr. Rice,” I replied. “Now I am wondering what you will
have to say to this telegram”; and I put into his hands the telegram
from Mr. Burns, declaring: “I made no statements concerning you as a
private citizen or government official at Pasadena or elsewhere, nor
have I ever undermined the character of you or any other person.” “What
have you to say to that, Mr. Rice?” I asked, and Mr. Rice replied:
“Well, I will say that I am surprised.” It was unnecessary for him to
say that—his face showed it!
Mr. Rice refused to name the other men who had been present at the
interview, but he remarked that the gathering was of such a nature that
it was manifest to everyone that Mr. Burns was there as a private
citizen, and not as chief of the United States Secret Service. Do you
think I would be reckless if I should guess that it was a gathering of
the chiefs of the Black Hand, and that Mr. Burns was there in his other
capacity, as head of the William J. Burns agency of espionage and
strike-breaking?
That the William J. Burns agency is thus employed regularly by the Black
Hand of Southern California is something which I have known for several
years. Turn to Chapter LXVI of “The Brass Check,” and you will find
there the story of how Sydney Flowers, returned soldier and editor of
the “Dugout,” was smashed by the Black Hand in Los Angeles, because he
refused to permit his paper to be used as a strike-breaking agency. I
did what I could to aid Flowers and save him from the penitentiary, and
as a result the Black Hand attempted a “frame-up” against myself.
Wishing to know just who was responsible for this, I thought I would
employ the most famous and most reputable detective agency in the United
States. With my attorney, Mr. John Beardsley, I called at the office of
this agency and interviewed the manager. As chance willed it, the
district manager, the high-up person who travels about the country
overseeing the affairs of the agency for Mr. Burns, was also present at
the interview.
I explained the case, confidentially of course, stating that I had
suspicions that the trail might lead to the office of the Merchants’ and
Manufacturers’ Association and its Los Angeles “Times,” and that I
wished the agency not to take the case unless they would be in position
to follow a trail to such a quarter. The two managers requested a little
time to think the matter over, and that afternoon they gave us their
decision: the William J. Burns Detective Agency, because of the
embarrassing possibility explained by me, could not undertake to
investigate this “frame-up.” Then I went to another detective agency in
the city, and when I told the manager about this incident he laughed
heartily and told me that the Burns Agency did all the secret work for
the “M. and M.” Incidentally, this man told me that he himself could not
take the case, because his business would be ruined if he did; nor would
I find any other detective agency in the city which would take the case.
And in this he was correct.
To complete the story of the Burns Detective Agency, I will also mention
that just prior to America’s entry into the World War this agency was
conducting a spy service in the United States for the German government.
Shortly before the sinking of the Lusitania, the Burns’ agency had men
stationed in American munition plants and was secretly selling
information to German government agents, who were gathering knowledge of
munition shipments for the purpose of torpedoing munition-laden vessels.
The head of Burns’ New York office, Gaston B. Means, admitted under oath
that he delivered reports in a secret place to an unknown man to whom he
was directed by the German government spy, Paul Koenig. The Burns agency
perpetrated against the United States government a gigantic frame-up
designed to supply von Bernstorff with perjured evidence for diplomatic
use against the United States government. Tug boat captains were hired
by a nest of German military spies under the direction of Burns’ New
York agent, Gaston B. Means, the captains being induced to swear to
false affidavits to indicate that they were carrying supplies to British
vessels outside New York harbor in violation of the laws of neutrality.
In this frame-up the Burns agency was caught red-handed, but was given
immunity from prosecution because its clients could better be caught by
holding this club over Burns’ head. Recently, when the Workers’ Party
called a mass meeting in our national capital, at which Robert Minor was
announced to tell this story, the use of the hall was mysteriously
withdrawn, and Mr. William J. Burns, in his capacity as chief of the
United States Secret Service, raided the offices of the sponsors of the
meeting and arrested a dozen men.