But over at the hotel a group of politicians celebrated throughout the night, not so much over Shively’s election as over Kern’s defeat. But the next morning threw a different light on things. A wave of bitter resentment against the secret caucus swept over the state and legislators were being called to an accounting. The roll call by the various constituencies of the state during the next few days disclosed that Kern still had the majority of eight he had figured on. It was a period of alibis. Irate members under suspicion of treachery furiously announced through the press that they were “ready to lick any man who says I did not vote for Kern.” _The Indianapolis News_ editorially expressed the prevalent opinion when it said--“We think that Mr. Kern suffered from the secret ballot, for this deprived him of the weight of the popular indorsement which was clearly his, and which would have had full play had there been an open ballot.” The event attracted attention all over the country and within twenty-four hours Representative Charles B. Landis, from Washington, made the prophetic prediction that this particular secret caucus would result in a direct primary “or something of the sort.” With Kern it was accepted as the end of a political career, and he turned again, now sixty years of age, to the practice of his profession. About this time he received a letter from James B. Morrow, the well-known Washington journalist, to the effect that he would soon be passing through Indianapolis and would stop over in the hope of having a talk with him concerning his early struggles, with the view to writing a special feature article. Mr. Kern replied that he would be glad to see him. It was several months before he appeared. The night he reached Indianapolis Kern received him in his office and after relating the story of his early struggles he sat until a late hour with the journalist exchanging stories and reminiscences of public men. During the whole of this time not a word was said about the senatorial election. At length as they were preparing to leave and Morrow was helping Kern on with his overcoat, the former remarked that in the east they had expected to see Kern in the senate. With a whimsical smile Kern replied that he too had expected it, but that “they got eight of them away from me.” On being asked who he meant by “they” he replied--“The brewery crowd.” It was not the understanding of Kern that this was part of the interview, but Morrow, with the keen nose for the important, incorporated it in his story. In doing so he did not employ the exact words used--but the sense was the same. The difference was due to the cold type. That interview was to pursue him as long as he lived. He might have escaped some embarrassment by giving the lie to the newspaper man--a favorite method of most politicians. But Kern knew that Morrow wrote sincerely and with no evil intentions and it was so nearly exact that he accepted it.