And so it proved to be. Barry turned aside a little bit confused at his first lesson in American democracy. Finally he found an elevator that was used by the public. He boarded it and in a few minutes found himself standing in the centre of the rotunda of the Capitol. It is, as most boys are aware, the great hall which stands in the centre of the Capitol between the House of Representatives and the United States Senate. Barry set his suitcase on the floor and gazed up at the interior of the vast dome, spellbound with wonder and delight. The light, coming through the windows of the great ceiling, revealed a wilderness of art. In the very centre he beheld the marvelous allegorical fresco called the "Apotheosis of Washington." Beneath this were designs in panels and medallions showing Raleigh, Columbus, Cabot, La Salle, and the other great characters that Barry had studied about in school, and below these he gazed on a series of brilliant pictures showing scenes in the Revolutionary war. How long he remained there in this attitude of wrapt admiration he could not tell, but when he glanced down at the floor to look for his suitcase, he found that it was gone. He rushed over to a gray-coated guide: "Did you see anything of my suitcase?" he cried in alarm. "Your suitcase," smiled the man; "I didn't know you had one." "I had a minute ago," said Barry; "I set it on the floor here and now it is gone." "Where could it go to if you had it by your side?" "Why, I was looking at the pictures in the ceiling," said the agitated boy, "and someone must have crept along and stolen it." "Well, I didn't see anything of it," was the calm response. In despair, Barry ran from one person to another until the marble space below the dome was a scene of unusual excitement. In the midst of the agitation a bright-looking, well-dressed young man came striding across the hallway leading from the House of Representatives. He noticed the stir, and something about Barry's manner attracted him. He went up to the boy and said in kindly tones: "What's the trouble, my son?" Barry explained as best he could. "Do you expect to meet someone here?" asked the stranger. "I do. I was to report to Congressman Carlton." "Why, I know him well," was the comment of the young man. "He is one of my best friends. We will have to see if we can't recover your suitcase for you." At that moment the alert young man happened to see a red-headed youngster peeping from behind one of the pillars that supported the dome. Instantly he understood the situation. "Joe," he called, in authoritative tones, "come here at once." Joe, thus called, responded obediently. The stranger took Barry by the arm, and pointing to the other, said: "This is Mr. Joseph Hart, one of the pages of the House of Representatives. Joseph, I want you to meet Mr. Barry Wynn, who is to become your associate." "Hello," said Joe. "How are you?" greeted Barry, taking the outstretched hand.