The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1923-01-02

they were. They had come to trouble
her girlhOod at Montgomery, when the
snow whitened the campus and the
wind sang in the trees. She was
grateful that the minister had turned
his back. Her hands trembled as she
| glanced again at the scrubbed fly leaf;
and more closely at the words penciled
at the bottom: Baptized Elizabeth at
Harris" Thatcher wanted this book
TO use against Bassett. Bassett was a
collector Of fine bindings; she had
heard it spoken of in the family. 1t
was part of Marian's pride in her
father that he was a bookish man.
When the minister returned to his
seat Sylvia asked as she put down the
book:
who was Elizabeth"
And then, little by little. in his
abrupt way. he told the story, much
as he had told 1t that night on the
Kankakee, with pauses for which
Sylvia was grateful-they gave her
time for thought, for filing in the
lapses, for visualizing the scene he
described. And the shadow of the
Morton Bassett she knew crept into
the picture She recalled their early
meetings. that first brief contact on
the shore of the lake; their talk on
the day following the convention
when she had laughed at him; that
wet evening when they met in the
street and he had expressed his IN
terest in Harwood and the hope that
she might care for the young lawyer.
81 h1h ~
she rejected this or that bit Of testl-
mony as worthless; but even then
enough remained to chill her heart:
Her hands were cold as she clasped
them together. Who was Elizabeth?
All, who was Sylvia? The phrase Of
the song that had brought her to tears
that starry night on the lake when
Dan Harwood had asked her to marry
him smote her again Her grand
father'ss evasion OF her question
about her father and mother and tho
twinges OF heartache she had expe-
rienced at college when other girls
spoke OF their homes, assumed now
for the first time a sinister meaning.
Had she, indeed. come into the world
in dishonor, and had she in truth
y
she in truth known that far hill coun-
try. with its evergreens and glisten-
ing SHOWS?
Ware had finished his story and sat
staring into the cracking fire. At
-last he turned toward Sylvia In the
glow of the desk lamp her face was
white. and she gazed with unseeIng
eyes at the inscription in the book.
The silence was still unbroken
when a few minutes later Mrs. Ware
came in with Harwood. whom she
had met in the street and brought
home to dinner.
Dan was full Of the situation in the
Legislature. and the table talk played
about the topic,
We're sparring for time. that's all.
and the people pay the freight! The
deadlock is clamped on tight. I never
thought Thatcher would prove so
strong. I think we could shake loose
enough votes from both sides to pre-.
cipltate a stampede for Ramsay. but
he won't hear to it. He says he wants
to do the State one patriotic service
before he dies by cleaning out the
bosses, and he doesn't want to spoil
the record by taking the senatorship
himself. Meanwhile Bassett stands
fast and ther''s no telling when he'll
break through Thatcher's lines"
Thatcher was here to see me today
the third time. He won't come back.
You know what he's after?' said
Ware.
Yes; understand" Dan answered
There won't be anything Of that
kind, viii there. DAM"
Dan shrugged his shoulders. and
glanced at Sylvia and Mrs. Ware.
Mrs. Ware knows about It; I had
to tell her" remarked the minister
chuckling. When Ed Thatcher
makes two calls on me in one week.
and one of them at midnight, there's
got to be an explanation. And Sylvia
heard him raving before showed him
out this afternoon"
Sylvia's plate was untouched; her
eyes searched those OF the man who
loved her before she spoke.
That's an ethical point. Mr.. Ware
II It were necessary to use that,-if
every other resource failed-would
you use it?''
NO! Not IL Bassett's success meant
the utter destruction Of the State. I
don't believe a word of it. I haven't
the slightest confidence In Thatchers
detective work; and the long arm of
coincidence has to grasp something
f1r1ner than my pitiful little book to
convince me-"
Dan shook his head.
He doesn't need the book, Mr..
Ware. I've seen the documents in
the case. Most of the evidence is cir
cumstantial, but you remember what
your friend Thoreau said about cir
cumstantial something to
the effect that it's sometimes pretty
convincing, as when you find a trout
in the milk"
But has Thatcher found the trout?"
well, no; he hasn't exactly found
the trout, but there's enough, there's
altogether too much" ended Dan de-
spair1ngly. THE caucus doesn't meet
again till tomorrow night, when
Thatcher promises to show his hand
I'm going to put in the time trying to
persuade Ramsay to come round"
But do you think he has any idea
what Thatcher has up his sleeve?"
asked Ware.
tits possible; dare say he knows
it. He's always been master Of the art
Of getting information from the
enemy's camp. But Thatcher d.
shown remarkable discretion in man.