The Stolen White Elephant

M >> Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) >> The Stolen White Elephant


"That is perfectly absurd!" I exclaimed.

"Of course it is," said the inspector. "Evidently Mr. Barnum, who thinks
he is so sharp, does not know me--but I know him."

Then he dictated this answer to the despatch:

Mr. Barnum's offer declined. Make it $7,000 or nothing.
Chief BLUNT.

"There. We shall not have to wait long for an answer. Mr. Barnum is
not at home; he is in the telegraph office--it is his way when he has
business on hand. Inside of three--"

Done.--P. T. BARNUM.

So interrupted the clicking telegraphic instrument. Before I could make
a comment upon this extraordinary episode, the following despatch carried
my thoughts into another and very distressing channel:

BOLIVIA, N. Y., 12.50.
Elephant arrived here from the south and passed through toward the
forest at 11.50, dispersing a funeral on the way, and diminishing
the mourners by two. Citizens fired some small cannon-balls into
him, and they fled. Detective Burke and I arrived ten minutes
later, from the north, but mistook some excavations for footprints,
and so lost a good deal of time; but at last we struck the right
trail and followed it to the woods. We then got down on our hands
and knees and continued to keep a sharp eye on the track, and so
shadowed it into the brush. Burke was in advance. Unfortunately
the animal had stopped to rest; therefore, Burke having his head
down, intent upon the track, butted up against the elephant's hind
legs before he was aware of his vicinity. Burke instantly arose to
his feet, seized the tail, and exclaimed joyfully, "I claim the
re--" but got no further, for a single blow of the huge trunk laid
the brave fellow's fragments low in death. I fled rearward, and the
elephant turned and shadowed me to the edge of the wood, making
tremendous speed, and I should inevitably have been lost, but that
the remains of the funeral providentially intervened again and
diverted his attention. I have just learned that nothing of that
funeral is now left; but this is no loss, for there is abundance of
material for another. Meantime, the elephant has disappeared again.
MULROONEY, Detective.

We heard no news except from the diligent and confident detectives
scattered about New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia--who
were all following fresh and encouraging clues--until shortly after
2 P.M., when this telegram came:

BAXTER CENTER, 2.15.
Elephant been here, plastered over with circus-bills, any broke up a
revival, striking down and damaging many who were on the point of
entering upon a better life. Citizens penned him up and established
a guard. When Detective Brown and I arrived, some time after, we
entered inclosure and proceeded to identify elephant by photograph
and description. All masks tallied exactly except one, which we
could not see--the boil-scar under armpit. To make sure, Brown
crept under to look, and was immediately brained--that is, head
crushed and destroyed, though nothing issued from debris. All fled
so did elephant, striking right and left with much effect. He
escaped, but left bold blood-track from cannon-wounds. Rediscovery
certain. He broke southward, through a dense forest.
BRENT, Detective.

That was the last telegram. At nightfall a fog shut down which was so
dense that objects but three feet away could not be discerned. This
lasted all night. The ferry-boats and even the omnibuses had to stop
running.



III

Next morning the papers were as full of detective theories as before;
they had all our tragic facts in detail also, and a great many more which
they had received from their telegraphic correspondents. Column after
column was occupied, a third of its way down, with glaring head-lines,
which it made my heart sick to read. Their general tone was like this:

THE WHITE ELEPHANT AT LARGE! HE MOVES UPON HIS FATAL MARCH WHOLE
VILLAGES DESERTED BY THEIR FRIGHT-STRICKEN OCCUPANTS! PALE TERROR
GOES BEFORE HIM, DEATH AND DEVASTATION FOLLOW AFTER! AFTER THESE,
THE DETECTIVES! BARNS DESTROYED, FACTORIES GUTTED, HARVESTS
DEVOURED, PUBLIC ASSEMBLAGES DISPERSED, ACCOMPANIED BY SCENES OF
CARNAGE IMPOSSIBLE TO DESCRIBE! THEORIES OF THIRTY-FOUR OF THE MOST
DISTINGUISHED DETECTIVES ON THE FORCES! THEORY OF CHIEF BLUNT!

"There!" said Inspector Blunt, almost betrayed into excitement, "this is
magnificent! This is the greatest windfall that any detective
organization ever had. The fame of it will travel to the ends of the
earth, and endure to the end of time, and my name with it."

But there was no joy for me. I felt as if I had committed all those red
crimes, and that the elephant was only my irresponsible agent. And how
the list had grown! In one place he had "interfered with an election and
killed five repeaters." He had followed this act with the destruction of
two pool fellows, named O'Donohue and McFlannigan, who had "found a
refuge in the home of the oppressed of all lands only the day before, and
were in the act of exercising for the first time the noble right of
American citizens at the polls, when stricken down by the relentless
hand of the Scourge of Siam." In another, he had "found a crazy
sensation-preacher preparing his next season's heroic attacks on the
dance, the theater, and other things which can't strike back, and had
stepped on him." And in still another place he had "killed a
lightning-rod agent." And so the list went on, growing redder and redder,
and more and more heartbreaking. Sixty persons had been killed, and two
hundred and forty wounded. All the accounts bore just testimony to the
activity and devotion of the detectives, and all closed with the remark
that "three hundred thousand citizen; and four detectives saw the dread
creature, and two of the latter he destroyed."

I dreaded to hear the telegraphic instrument begin to click again.
By and by the messages began to pour in, but I was happily disappointed
in they nature. It was soon apparent that all trace of the elephant was
lost. The fog had enabled him to search out a good hiding-place
unobserved. Telegrams from the most absurdly distant points reported
that a dim vast mass had been glimpsed there through the fog at such and
such an hour, and was "undoubtedly the elephant." This dim vast mass had
been glimpsed in New Haven, in New Jersey, in Pennsylvania, in interior
New York, in Brooklyn, and even in the city of New York itself! But in
all cases the dim vast mass had vanished quickly and left no trace.
Every detective of the large force scattered over this huge extent of
country sent his hourly report, and each and every one of them had a
clue, and was shadowing something, and was hot upon the heels of it.

But the day passed without other result.

The next day the same.

The next just the same.

The newspaper reports began to grow monotonous with facts that amounted
to nothing, clues which led to nothing, and theories which had nearly
exhausted the elements which surprise and delight and dazzle.

By advice of the inspector I doubled the reward.

Four more dull days followed. Then came a bitter blow to the poor,
hard-working detectives--the journalists declined to print their
theories, and coldly said, "Give us a rest."

Two weeks after the elephant's disappearance I raised the reward to
seventy-five thousand dollars by the inspector's advice. It was a great
sum, but I felt that I would rather sacrifice my whole private fortune
than lose my credit with my government. Now that the detectives were in
adversity, the newspapers turned upon them, and began to fling the most
stinging sarcasms at them. This gave the minstrels an idea, and they
dressed themselves as detectives and hunted the elephant on the stage in
the most extravagant way. The caricaturists made pictures of detectives
scanning the country with spy-glasses, while the elephant, at their
backs, stole apples out of their pockets. And they made all sorts of
ridiculous pictures of the detective badge--you have seen that badge
printed in gold on the back of detective novels, no doubt it is a
wide-staring eye, with the legend, "WE NEVER SLEEP." When detectives
called for a drink, the would-be facetious barkeeper resurrected an
obsolete form of expression and said, "Will you have an eye-opener?"
All the air was thick with sarcasms.

But there was one man who moved calm, untouched, unaffected, through it
all. It was that heart of oak, the chief inspector. His brave eye never
drooped, his serene confidence never wavered. He always said:

"Let them rail on; he laughs best who laughs last."

My admiration for the man grew into a species of worship. I was at his
side always. His office had become an unpleasant place to me, and now
became daily more and more so. Yet if he could endure it I meant to do
so also--at least, as long as I could. So I came regularly, and stayed
--the only outsider who seemed to be capable of it. Everybody wondered
how I could; and often it seemed to me that I must desert, but at such
times I looked into that calm and apparently unconscious face, and held
my ground.

About three weeks after the elephant's disappearance I was about to say,
one morning, that I should have to strike my colors and retire, when the
great detective arrested the thought by proposing one more superb and
masterly move.

This was to compromise with the robbers. The fertility of this man's
invention exceeded anything I have ever seen, and I have had a wide
intercourse with the world's finest minds. He said he was confident he
could compromise for one hundred thousand dollars and recover the
elephant. I said I believed I could scrape the amount together, but what
would become of the poor detectives who had worked so faithfully? He
said:

"In compromises they always get half."

This removed my only objection. So the inspector wrote two notes, in
this form:

DEAR MADAM,--Your husband can make a large sum of money (and be
entirely protected from the law) by making an immediate, appointment
with me. Chief BLUNT.

He sent one of these by his confidential messenger to the "reputed wife"
of Brick Duffy, and the other to the reputed wife of Red McFadden.

Within the hour these offensive answers came:

YE OWLD FOOL: brick Duffys bin ded 2 yere.
BRIDGET MAHONEY.

CHIEF BAT,--Red McFadden is hung and in heving 18 month. Any Ass
but a detective know that.
MARY O'HOOLIGAN.

"I had long suspected these facts," said the inspector; "this testimony
proves the unerring accuracy of my instinct."

The moment one resource failed him he was ready with another. He
immediately wrote an advertisement for the morning papers, and I kept a
copy of it:

A.--xWhlv. 242 ht. Tjnd--fz328wmlg. Ozpo,--2 m! 2m!. M! ogw.

He said that if the thief was alive this would bring him to the usual
rendezvous. He further explained that the usual rendezvous was a glare
where all business affairs between detectives and criminals were
conducted. This meeting would take place at twelve the next night.

We could do nothing till then, and I lost no time in getting out of the
office, and was grateful indeed for the privilege.

At eleven the next night I brought one hundred thousand dollars in
bank-notes and put them into the chief's hands, and shortly afterward he
took his leave, with the brave old undimmed confidence in his eye.
An almost intolerable hour dragged to a close; then I heard his welcome
tread, and rose gasping and tottered to meet him. How his fine eyes
flamed with triumph! He said:

"We've compromised! The jokers will sing a different tune to-morrow!
Follow me!"

He took a lighted candle and strode down into the vast vaulted basement
where sixty detectives always slept, and where a score were now playing
cards to while the time. I followed close after him. He walked swiftly
down to the dim and remote end of the place, and just as I succumbed to
the pangs of suffocation and was swooning away he stumbled and fell over
the outlying members of a mighty object, and I heard him exclaim as he
went down:

"Our noble profession is vindicated. Here is your elephant!"

I was carried to the office above and restored with carbolic acid. The
whole detective force swarmed in, and such another season of triumphant
rejoicing ensued as I had never witnessed before. The reporters were
called, baskets of champagne were opened, toasts were drunk, the
handshakings and congratulations were continuous and enthusiastic.
Naturally the chief was the hero of the hour, and his happiness was so
complete and had been so patiently and worthily and bravely won that it
made me happy to see it, though I stood there a homeless beggar, my
priceless charge dead, and my position in my country's service lost to me
through what would always seem my fatally careless execution of a great
trust. Many an eloquent eye testified its deep admiration for the chief,
and many a detective's voice murmured, "Look at him--just the king of the
profession; only give him a clue, it's all he wants, and there ain't
anything hid that he can't find." The dividing of the fifty thousand
dollars made great pleasure; when it was finished the chief made a little
speech while he put his share in his pocket, in which he said, "Enjoy it,
boys, for you've earned it; and, more than that, you've earned for the
detective profession undying fame."

A telegram arrived, which read:

MONROE, MICH., 10 P.M.
First time I've struck a telegraph office in over three weeks. Have
followed those footprints, horseback, through the woods, a thousand miles
to here, and they get stronger and bigger and fresher every day. Don't
worry-inside of another week I'll have the elephant. This is dead sure.
DARLEY, Detective.

The chief ordered three cheers for "Darley, one of the finest minds on
the force," and then commanded that he be telegraphed to come home and
receive his share of the reward.

So ended that marvelous episode of the stolen elephant. The newspapers
were pleasant with praises once more, the next day, with one contemptible
exception. This sheet said, "Great is the detective! He may be a little
slow in finding a little thing like a mislaid elephant he may hunt him
all day and sleep with his rotting carcass all night for three weeks, but
he will find him at last if he can get the man who mislaid him to show
him the place!"

Poor Hassan was lost to me forever. The cannonshots had wounded him
fatally, he had crept to that unfriendly place in the fog, and there,
surrounded by his enemies and in constant danger of detection, he had
wasted away with hunger and suffering till death gave him peace.

The compromise cost me one hundred thousand dollars; my detective
expenses were forty-two thousand dollars more; I never applied for a
place again under my government; I am a ruined man and a wanderer on the
earth but my admiration for that man, whom I believe to be the greatest
detective the world has ever produced, remains undimmed to this day, and
will so remain unto the end.