ope he has both, Mr. Thatcher, but you are assuming that I'm deeper
in his confidence than the facts justify. You and he have been
acquainted so long that you ought to know him thoroughly."

Thatcher did not heed this mild rebuke; nor did he resort to
propitiatory speech. His cool way of ignoring Dan's reproach added to
the young man's annoyance; Dan felt that it was in poor taste and
ungenerous for a man of Thatcher's years and position to come into
Bassett's private office to discuss him with a subordinate. He had
already learned enough of the relations of the two men to realize that
perfect amity was essential between them; he was shocked by the
indifference with which Thatcher spoke of Bassett, of whom people did
not usually speak carelessly in this free fashion. Harwood's own sense
of loyalty was in arms; yet Thatcher seemed unmindful that anything
disagreeable had occurred. He threw away his cigar and drew out a fresh
one which he wobbled about in his mouth unlighted. He kept swinging
round in his chair to gaze at the map above Bassett's desk. The tinted
outlines of the map--green, pink, and orange--could not have had for him
any novelty; similar maps hung in many offices and Thatcher was moreover
a native of the state and long familiar with its configuration. Perhaps,
Dan reflected, its juxtaposition to Bassett's desk was what irritated
his visitor, though it had never occurred to him that this had any
significance. He recalled now, however, that when he had arranged the
rooms the map had been hung in the outer office, but that Bassett
himself had removed it to his private room--the only change he had made
in Dan's arrangements. It was conceivable that Thatcher saw in the
position of the map an adumbration of Bassett's higher political
ambition, and that this had affected the capitalist unpleasantly.

Thatcher's manner was that of a man so secure in his own position that
he could afford to trample others under foot if he liked. It was--not to
put too fine a point upon it--the manner of a bully. His reputation for
independence was well established; he was rich enough to say what he
pleased without regard to the consequences, and he undoubtedly enjoyed
his sense of power.

"I suppose I'm the only man in Indiana that ain't afraid of Mort
Bassett," he announced casually. "It's because Mort knows I ain't afraid
of him that we get on so well together. You've been with him long enough
by this time to know that we have