However, within a week after the Miles incident, the “Advertiser” gave Harwood the shock of an unlooked-for plunge into ice-water by printing a sensational story under a double-column headline, reading, “The Boss in the Boordman Building.”  The Honorable Morton Bassett, so the article averred, no longer satisfied to rule his party amid the pastoral calm of Fraser County, had stolen into the capital and secretly established headquarters, which meant, beyond question, the manifestation of even a wider exercise of his malign influence in Indiana politics.  Harwood’s name enjoyed a fame that day that many years of laborious achievement could not have won for it.  The “Advertiser’s” photographers had stolen in at night and taken a flashlight picture of the office door, bearing the legend

     66

     DANIEL HARWOOD

Harwood’s personal history was set forth in florid phrases.  It appeared that he had been carefully chosen and trained by Bassett to aid in his evil work.  His connection with the “Courier,” which had seemed to Dan at the time so humble, assumed a dignity and importance that highly amused him.  It was quite like the Fraserville boss to choose a young man of good antecedents, the graduate of a great university, with no previous experience in politics, the better to bend him to his will.  Dan’s talents and his brilliant career at college all helped to magnify the importance of Bassett’s latest move.  Morton Bassett was dangerous, the “Advertiser” conceded editorially, because he had brains; and he was even more to be feared because he could command the brains of other men.

Dan called Bassett at Fraserville on the long distance telephone and told him of the disclosure.  Bassett replied in a few sentences.

“That won’t hurt anything.  I’d been expecting something of the kind.  Put you in, did they?  I’ll get my paper to-night and read it carefully.  Better cut the stuff out and send it in an envelope, to make sure.  Call Atwill over and tell him we ignore the whole business.  I’m taking a little rest, but I’ll be in town in about a week.”

Dan was surprised to find how bitterly he resented the attack on Bassett.  The “Advertiser” spoke of the leader as though he were a monster of immorality and Dan honestly believed Bassett to be no such thing.  His loyalty was deeply intensified by the hot volleys poured into the Boordman Building; but he was not disturbed by the references to himself.  He winced a little bit at being called a “stool pigeon”; but he thought he knew the reporter who had written the article, and his experience in the newspaper office had not been so brief but that it had killed his layman’s awe of the printed word.  When he walked into the Whitcomb that evening the clerk made a point of calling his name and shaking hands with him.  He was conscious that a number of idlers in the hotel lobby regarded him with a new interest.  Some one spoke his name audibly, and he enjoyed in some degree the sensation of being a person of mark.