to send the Queen a present--the sole sure way of propitiating an enemy,
according to Oriental ideas. This present ought not only to be a royal
one, but transcendently royal. Wherefore, what offering could be so meet
as that of a white elephant? My position in the Indian civil service was
such that I was deemed peculiarly worthy of the honor of conveying the
present to her Majesty. A ship was fitted out for me and my servants and
the officers and attendants of the elephant, and in due time I arrived in
New York harbor and placed my royal charge in admirable quarters in
Jersey City. It was necessary to remain awhile in order to recruit the
animal's health before resuming the voyage.

All went well during a fortnight--then my calamities began. The white
elephant was stolen! I was called up at dead of night and informed of
this fearful misfortune. For some moments I was beside myself with
terror and anxiety; I was helpless. Then I grew calmer and collected my
faculties. I soon saw my course--for, indeed, there was but the one
course for an intelligent man to pursue. Late as it was, I flew to New
York and got a policeman to conduct me to the headquarters of the
detective force. Fortunately I arrived in time, though the chief of the
force, the celebrated Inspector Blunt was just on the point of leaving
for his home. He was a man of middle size and compact frame, and when he
was thinking deeply he had a way of kniting his brows and tapping his
forehead reflectively with his finger, which impressed you at once with
the conviction that you stood in the presence of a person of no common
order. The very sight of him gave me confidence and made me hopeful.
I stated my errand. It did not flurry him in the least; it had no more
visible effect upon his iron self-possession than if I had told him
somebody had stolen my dog. He motioned me to a seat, and said, calmly:

"Allow me to think a moment, please."