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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"A Hoosier Chronicle"

And say,"--here
Miss Farrell lowered her voice,--"the Missis must try his soul a good
deal! I wonder how he ever picked _her_ out of the bunch?"
"That will do!" said Harwood sharply. "I'll find Mr. Bassett at the
Whitcomb and I shan't have anything for you to-day."
There had been a meeting of the central committee preliminary to the
approaching state convention. A number of candidates had already opened
headquarters at the Whitcomb; members of Congress, aspirants for the
governor's seat, to be filled two years hence, and petty satraps from
far and near were visible at the hotel. If Bassett's star was declining
there was nothing to indicate it in the conduct of the advance guard. If
any change was apparent it pointed to an increase of personal
popularity. Bassett was not greatly given to loafing in public places;
he usually received visitors at such times in an upper room of the
hotel; but Harwood found him established on a settee in the lobby in
plain view of all seekers, and from the fixed appearance of the men
clustered about him he had held this position for some time. Harwood
drew into the outer edge of the crowd unnoticed for a moment. Bassett
was at his usual ease; a little cheerfuler of countenance than was his
wont, and yet not unduly anxious to appear tranquil. He had precipitated
one of the most interesting political struggles the state had ever
witnessed, but his air of unconcern before this mixed company of his
fellow partisans, among whom there were friends and foes, was well
calculated to inspire faith in his leadership.


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