The Stolen White Elephant | Page 4

had additions--consisting of Detective This, Detective That, and

Detective The Other's "Theory" as to how the robbery was done, who
the robbers were, and whither they had flown with their booty. There
were eleven of these theories, and they covered all the possibilities; and
this single fact shows what independent thinkers detectives are. No two
theories were alike, or even much resembled each other, save in one
striking particular, and in that one all the other eleven theories were
absolutely agreed. That was, that although the rear of my building was
torn out and the only door remained locked, the elephant had not been
removed through the rent, but by some other (undiscovered) outlet. All
agreed that the robbers had made that rent only to mislead the
detectives. That never would have occurred to me or to any other
layman, perhaps, but it had not deceived the detectives for a moment.
Thus, what I had supposed was the only thing that had no mystery
about it was in fact the very thing I had gone furthest astray in. The
eleven theories all named the supposed robbers, but no two named the
same robbers; the total number of suspected persons was thirty-seven.
The various newspaper accounts all closed with the most important
opinion of all-- that of Chief Inspector Blunt. A portion of this
statement read as follows:
The chief knows who the two principals are, namely," Brick" Daffy and
"Red" McFadden. Ten days before the robbery was achieved he was
already aware that it was to be attempted, and had quietly proceeded to
shadow these two noted villains; but unfortunately on the night in
question their track was lost, and before it could be found again the bird
was flown--that is, the elephant.
Daffy and McFadden are the boldest scoundrels in the profession; the
chief has reasons for believing that they are the men who stole the stove
out of the detective headquarters on a bitter night last winter--in
consequence of which the chief and every detective present were in the
hands of the physicians before morning, some with frozen feet, others
with frozen fingers, ears, and other members.
When I read the first half of that I was more astonished than ever at the
wonderful sagacity of this strange man. He not only saw everything in
the present with a clear eye, but even the future could not be hidden

from him. I was soon at his office, and said I could not help wishing he
had had those men arrested, and so prevented the trouble and loss; but
his reply was simple and unanswerable:
"It is not our province to prevent crime, but to punish it. We cannot
punish it until it is committed."
I remarked that the secrecy with which we had begun had been marred
by the newspapers; not only all our facts but all our plans and purposes
had been revealed; even all the suspected persons had been named;
these would doubtless disguise themselves now, or go into hiding.
"Let them. They will find that when I am ready for them my hand will
descend upon them, in their secret places, as unerringly as the hand of
fate. As to the newspapers, we must keep in with them. Fame,
reputation, constant public mention--these are the detective's bread and
butter. He must publish his facts, else he will be supposed to have none;
he must publish his theory, for nothing is so strange or striking as a
detective's theory, or brings him so much wonderful respect; we must
publish our plans, for these the journals insist upon having, and we
could not deny them without offending. We must constantly show the
public what we are doing, or they will believe we are doing nothing. It
is much pleasanter to have a newspaper say, 'Inspector Blunt's
ingenious and extraordinary theory is as follows,' than to have it say
some harsh thing, or, worse still, some sarcastic one."
"I see the force of what you say. But I noticed that in one part of your
remarks in the papers this morning you refused to reveal your opinion
upon a certain minor point."
"Yes, we always do that; it has a good effect. Besides, I had not formed
any opinion on that point, anyway."
I deposited a considerable sum of money with the inspector, to meet
current expenses, and sat down to wait for news. We were expecting
the telegrams to begin to arrive at any moment now. Meantime I reread
the newspapers and also our descriptive circular, and observed that our
twenty-five thousand dollars reward seemed to be offered only to

detectives. I said I thought it ought to be offered to anybody who would
catch the elephant. The inspector said:
"It is the detectives who will find the elephant; hence