This was an “off” year politically, or, more accurately, the statutes called for no state election in Indiana.  For every one knows that there is no hour of the day in any year when politics wholly cease from agitating the waters of the Wabash:  somewhere some one is always dropping in a pebble to see how far the ripple will widen.  In the torrid first days of September the malfeasance of the treasurer of an Ohio River county afforded the Republican press an opportunity to gloat, the official in question being, of course, a Democrat, and a prominent member of the state committee.

For several days before the exposure Bassett had appeared fitfully at the Whitcomb and in the Boordman Building.  On the day that the Republican “Advertiser” screamed delightedly over the Democratic scandal in Ranger County, Bassett called Dan into his office.  Bassett’s name had been linked to that of Miles, the erring treasurer, in the “Advertiser’s” headlines; and its leading editorial had pointed to the defalcation as the sort of thing that inevitably follows the domination of a party by a spoilsman and corruptionist like the senator from Fraser.

Bassett indicated by a nod a copy of the “Advertiser” on his desk.

“The joke was on us this time.  They’re pinning Miles on me, and I guess I’ll have to wear him like a bouquet.  I’ve been in Louisville fixing this thing up and they won’t have as much fun as they thought.  It’s a simple case:  Miles hadn’t found out yet that corn margins are not legitimate investments for a county’s money.  He’s a good fellow and will know better next time.  We couldn’t afford to have a member of the state committee in jail, so I met the bondsmen and the prosecuting attorney—­he’s a Republican—­in Louisville and we straightened it all out.  The money’s in bank down there.  It proves to be after all a matter of bookkeeping,—­technical differences, which were reconciled readily enough.  Miles got scared; those fellows always do.  He’ll be good now.”

Dan had been standing.  Bassett pointed to a chair.

“I want you to write an interview with me on this case, laying emphasis on the fact that the trouble was all due to an antiquated system of keeping the accounts, which Miles inherited from his predecessors in office.  The president of the bank and the prosecutor have prepared statements,—­I have them in my pocket,—­and I want you to get all the publicity you know how for these things.  Let me see.  In my interview you’d better lay great stress on the imperative need for a uniform accounting law for county officials.  Say that we expect to stand for this in our next platform; make it strong.  Have me say that this incident in Ranger County, while regrettable, will serve a good purpose if it arouses the minds of the people to the importance of changing the old unsatisfactory method of bookkeeping that so frequently leads perfectly trustworthy and well-meaning officials into error.  Do you get the idea?”