"It was the only thing to do. You must never say die, my boy. Fight to the last ditch, but never surrender. There is always the possibility that something may turn up. The first and most important factor in this fight was delay. We've secured that. How long Carlton will hold that crowd is more than I can predict. After that we need an additional vote. The vote is at Wynnwood." "Yes, I know all about that--but I don't see how this talk is going to help," cried Barry, irritably. "Nor do I," responded the imperturbable Irishman, "but do you know that sometimes in the mere act of stating a difficulty you discover a way out of it." The boy laughed in spite of himself. "There's no way of getting to Wynnwood--no trains, I mean," he said. "Quite right, and Wynnwood, being obstinate, won't come to us." "If we could locate a wireless operator, we might flash a message to Warrington," said Barry, banteringly. "Yes," assented the other, "or if we could pick up a flying machine that wasn't otherwise engaged, it might help some." The boy gave a gesture of dismay. "While we're out here fooling, Mr. Carlton is probably talking himself hoarse." Conway suddenly broke away from Barry and started across the asphalted street. "I've got it!" he shouted. "I've got it! The very thing!" "What is it?" cried the boy, running after him. "Look across the street," responded the correspondent, breathlessly, "do you see that big automobile, and do you see that red-haired youth in the front seat?" "Yes, but I don't see the connection--yet." "You will in a second. That's Danny Burns. He was in my class at Georgetown. He's the only son of one of the rubber kings. He has all kinds of wealth; money to burn, and oceans of time to consume it." Before Barry could reply, Conway was hailing the young man in the automobile: "Danny! Danny!" The red-haired one turned around indolently. "Why, hello, you rascal, what's the matter? Running a foot race, or is the world on fire?" "Neither, you time-killer. I want you to give me a ride in your machine." "Well, of all the cheek you--" "You've invited me fifty times," interrupted Felix. "Yes, and you've declined forty-nine." "Hurry up, or I may change my mind." "Jump in," shouted the young millionaire. In a thrice Conway and Barry were in the machine. After the newspaper man had presented the boy, the amateur chauffeur turned to Felix: "Where to?" "Straight South, and I'll tell you all about it as we go." As the big touring car whizzed along, the newspaper man told his college chum the story of the Cleverly bill. He explained the plight of John Carlton and told of the mysterious disappearance of Congressman Warrington. The question was whether it would be possible to reach Wynnwood and return to Washington before the meeting of the Committee was concluded.