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."