“She’s not the sort of girl who would be dependent in any case.  She holds rather altruistic ideas in fact,” remarked Harwood.  “I mean,” he added, seeing that Bassett waited for him to explain himself, “that Miss Garrison feels that she starts life in debt to the world—­by reason of her own opportunities and so on; she expects to make payments on that debt.”

“In debt?” Bassett repeated vacantly.  “Oh, not literally, I see!  She expects to teach and help others in that way.  That’s commendable.  But let me see.”

He had taken an unsharpened lead pencil from his pocket and was slipping it through his fingers absently, allowing its blunt ends to tap the arm of his chair at intervals.  After a moment’s silence he plunged into his own affairs.

“You probably saw my tip to Thatcher in the ‘Courier’?  I guess everybody has seen it by this time,” he added grimly; and he went on as though making a statement his mind had thoroughly rehearsed:  “Thatcher and I have been pretty thick.  We’ve been in a good many business deals together.  We’ve been useful to each other.  He had more money than I had to begin with, but I had other resources—­influence and so on that he needed.  I guess we’re quits on the business side.  You may be interested to know that I never had a cent of money in his breweries and distilleries; but I’ve helped protect the traffic in return for support he has given some of my own enterprises.  I never owned a penny in that Fraserville brewery, for instance; but I’ve been pointed out as its owner.  They’ve got the idea here in Indiana that saloons are my chief joy in life; but nothing is farther from the truth.  When Mrs. Bassett has been troubled about that I have always been able to tell her with a good conscience that I hadn’t a penny in the business.  I’ve frankly antagonized legislation directed against the saloon, for I’ve never taken any stock in this clamor of the Prohibitionists and temperance cranks generally; but I’ve stood consistently for a proper control.  Thatcher and I got along all right until he saw that the party was coming into power again and got the senatorial bee in his bonnet.  He’s got the idea that he can buy his way in; and to buy a seat he’s got to buy my friends.  That’s a clear proposition, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir; I haven’t seen that he had any personal influence worth counting.”

“Exactly.  Now, I don’t intend that Ed Thatcher shall buy a seat in the United States Senate if our party in Indiana has one to dispose of.  I’m not so good myself, but when I found that Thatcher had begun to build up a little machine for himself, I resolved to show him that I can’t be used by any man so long as he thinks he needs me and then kicked out when I’m in the way.  And I’ve got some state pride, too, and with all the scandals going around in other states over the sale of seats at Washington I’m not going to have my party in the state where I was born and where I have lived all my life lend itself to the ambitions of an Ed Thatcher.  I think you share that feeling?”