"Barry," he said, when the boy appeared, "there is to be a very important meeting this afternoon, composed of the men who are fighting the reform measures of the Administration. I want to get a good report of that gathering, but I am afraid that if I go to the meeting the members who know me will shut up like clams and I will have my labor for my pains." "Well," questioned Barry, "how can I help you?" "Very easily," was the quick reply. "Your shorthand is good, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. I think I have accuracy and speed." "Well, you're just the boy I want. First of all, I want a list of those who are present, and after that I would like very much to get a verbatim report of the remarks of some of the principal speakers. Will you help me?" Barry thought for a moment before replying. "Well," he said, finally, "if you think that I am competent to do the work, I am willing to undertake it." Conway laughed. "There is no question at all about your competency. The only point to consider now is your courage." "My courage?" echoed Barry. "Yes, your courage. Some pretty hot-headed men expect to attend that meeting. If they thought that you were there to report it, they would not hesitate to take you up by the scruff of the neck and the seat of the trousers and toss you out of a convenient window." Barry laughed at this description, and then was silent for a moment. "Well, my boy," cried the journalist, "if you're not game I won't press the proposition." "I am game enough," retorted Barry, "but I wouldn't want to do anything that wasn't decent." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I would not like the notion of any underhand work. I don't take much stock in this business of peeping through keyholes and things of that kind." Conway's face flushed. "You don't suppose I would ask you to do anything that I wouldn't do myself, do you?" "No." "Well, then there is no more to be said. This is a meeting of public men to consider public business, and the public has a right to know all about it." "But you don't care to go there yourself?" suggested Barry. "No. For the reason that I have already told you. The sight of me would frighten those fellows, and the public would thereby be deprived of information which it has a right to." "I'll go," cried Barry, ending the parley, "and I will promise to do the best I can for you." The meeting was held in a secluded Committee room on the ground floor of the Capitol. There were thirty or forty men present, and when Barry reached the door of the room it was pretty well filled. Joel Phipps stood at the entrance scanning the members as they came in. Just as Barry arrived someone called Phipps to the other end of the room, and in the interval while the door was unguarded, the boy slipped in and made his way through the crowd to the last row of chairs. A tall, good-natured member, seeing him, cried out: "What district do you represent, my boy?"