Mark Twain - The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain (Illustrated)

This was reasonable enough, certainly. Now the telegraphic machine in the corner began to click, and the following despatch was the result:

Flower Station, N. Y.,

7.30 a.m.

Have got a clue. Found a succession of deep tracks across a farm near here. Followed them two miles east without result; think elephant went west. Shall now shadow him in that direction.

Darley, Detective.

“Darley’s one of the best men on the force,” said the inspector. “We shall hear from him again before long.”

Telegram No. 2 came:

Barker’s, N. J.,

7.40 a.m.

Just arrived. Glass factory broken open here during night, and eight hundred bottles taken. Only water in large quantity near here is five miles distant. Shall strike for there. Elephant will be thirsty. Bottles were empty.

Baker, Detective.

“That promises well, too,” said the inspector. “I told you the creature’s appetites would not be bad clues.”

Telegram No. 3:

Taylorville, L. I.

8.15 a.m.

A haystack near here disappeared during night. Probably eaten. Have got a clue, and am off.

Hubbard, Detective.

“How he does move around!” said the inspector “I knew we had a difficult job on hand, but we shall catch him yet.”

Flower Station, N. Y.,

9 a.m.

Shadowed the tracks three miles westward. Large, deep, and ragged. Have just met a farmer who says they are not elephant-tracks. Says they are holes where he dug up saplings for shade-trees when ground was frozen last winter. Give me orders how to proceed.

Darley, Detective.

“Aha! a confederate of the thieves! The thing grows warm,” said the inspector.

He dictated the following telegram to Darley:

Arrest the man and force him to name his pals. Continue to follow the tracks to the Pacific, if necessary.

Chief Blunt.

Next telegram:

Coney Point, Pa.,

8.45 a.m.

Gas office broken open here during night and three months’ unpaid gas bills taken. Have got a clue and am away.

Murphy, Detective.

“Heavens!” said the inspector; “would he eat gas bills?”

“Through ignorance – yes; but they cannot support life. At least, unassisted.”

Now came this exciting telegram:

Ironville, N. Y.,

9.30 a.m.

Just arrived. This village in consternation. Elephant passed through here at five this morning. Some say he went east some say west, some north, some south – but all say they did not wait to notice, particularly. He killed a horse; have secure a piece of it for a clue. Killed it with his trunk; from style of blow, think he struck it left-handed. From position in which horse lies, think elephant traveled northward along line Berkley Railway. Has four and a half hours’ start, but I move on his track at once.

Hawes, Detective.

I uttered exclamations of joy. The inspector was as self-contained as a graven image. He calmly touched his bell.

“Alaric, send Captain Burns here.”

Burns appeared.

“How many men are ready for instant orders?”

“Ninety-six, sir.”

“Send them north at once. Let them concentrate along the line of the Berkley road north of Ironville.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let them conduct their movements with the utmost secrecy. As fast as others are at liberty, hold them for orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go!”

“Yes, sir.”

Presently came another telegram:

Sage Corners, N. Y.,

10.30.

Just arrived. Elephant passed through here at 8.15. All escaped from the town but a policeman. Apparently elephant did not strike at policeman, but at the lamp-post. Got both. I have secured a portion of the policeman as clue.

Stumm, Detective.

“So the elephant has turned westward,” said the inspector. “However, he will not escape, for my men are scattered all over that region.”

The next telegram said:

Glover’s,

11.15.

Just arrived. Village deserted, except sick and aged. Elephant passed through three-quarters of an hour ago. The anti-temperance mass-meeting was in session; he put his trunk in at a window and washed it out with water from cistern. Some swallowed it – since dead; several drowned. Detectives Cross and O’Shaughnessy were passing through town, but going south – so missed elephant. Whole region for many miles around in terror – people flying from their homes. Wherever they turn they meet elephant, and many are killed.

Brant, Detective.

I could have shed tears, this havoc so distressed me. But the inspector only said:

“You see – we are closing in on him. He feels our presence; he has turned eastward again.”

Yet further troublous news was in store for us. The telegraph brought this:

Hogansport,

12.19.

Just arrived. Elephant passed through half an hour ago, creating wildest fright and excitement. Elephant raged around streets; two plumbers going by, killed one – other escaped. Regret general.

O’Flaherty, Detective.

“Now he is right in the midst of my men,” said the inspector. “Nothing can save him.”

A succession of telegrams came from detectives who were scattered through New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and who were following clues consisting of ravaged barns, factories, and Sunday-school libraries, with high hopes – hopes amounting to certainties, indeed. The inspector said:

“I wish I could communicate with them and order them north, but that is impossible. A detective only visits a telegraph office to send his report; then he is off again, and you don’t know where to put your hand on him.”

Now came this despatch:

Bridgeport, Ct.,

12.15.

Barnum offers rate of $4,000 a year for exclusive privilege of using elephant as traveling advertising medium from now till detectives find him. Wants to paste circus-posters on him. Desires immediate answer.

Boggs, Detective.

“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.