"No, it was not. The marks of the nails were still there. And he used the fact to convey a moral lesson. He told me the same thing happened every time a boy was guilty of a fault or a sin,--he damaged his character to that extent. The inference is plain. While we must do our best to repair the wrongs we do, we cannot forget that the scars still remain." If Mr. Carlton and Barry imagined that the incident of the missing bill was closed, they were doomed to disappointment. While they were still talking, the door opened and Felix Conway came in, his forehead wrinkled with indignation. The Congressman, who was a self-contained man, could not help smiling. "What's the matter now?" "Matter enough," retorted the correspondent, "Hudson's playing peanut politics." "It's the only kind he knows," was the placid retort. "But you wouldn't think he'd fight a boy." "What is it?" asked Carlton, with a trace of impatience. "What's he doing now?" "He's written a letter to the Sergeant-at-Arms, demanding the dismissal of Barry Wynn on the charge of conduct unbecoming an employe of the Government. In a word, he's after the official scalp of our young friend." John Carlton sprang from his chair, his honest face red with anger. He brought his big fist down on the desk in front of him with such force that the ink bottles danced in sympathy with his passion. "Well, he won't get it--and you can tell him that for me." Conway laughed in spite of himself. "You're not taking this thing seriously too, are you?" "So much so that I'll stake my reputation on beating Hudson." But the journalist held up a restraining hand. "One moment, please," he said, "this is my business, and I'd like you to keep out of it--for the present, at least." "I'd like to know why." "Because I have my own notion of the way in which it should be handled." "All right, go ahead; but I don't propose to sit still and see him hurt the boy." Barry intervened at this stage of the conversation. "Mr. Carlton," he said, very earnestly, "I'm very grateful for your good will and your friendship, but I hope you will not permit me to stand in your way politically. I'm not blind. I know that I've brought this thing on myself, and I'm willing to take the consequences. It's not fair to ask you to bear the brunt of my faults, and I don't expect it." "My dear Barry," said the Congressman, soothingly, "Jesse Hudson's not after you; he's after me. Now, I must either fight him or turn tail and run. Surely you wouldn't ask me--" "No, no," said the boy, eagerly, "I never thought of that side of it." "By the way, Conway," remarked Carlton, turning to the correspondent, "did Hudson write privately to the Sergeant-at-Arms?" The journalist laughed. "Not much. He gave his letter to all the newspapers. That's what made me hot. He's courting publicity, and I'll bet he gets all he wants before he is through."