"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.