Virginia frowned. “Serves him right,” she said. “I don’t like to be vindictive, but I hope his editor discharges him.” She sighed. “I can’t understand why my father should have taken such a fancy to that contemptible fellow. But then,” she added, with a rueful smile, “poor dad has shown himself to be a very poor judge of men.” Hawley nodded. “I am sorry for your father, Virginia. I presume it will be a great blow to him--the way things have turned out.” “I am afraid it will,” the girl said wistfully. “He had such great faith in that tyrant Portiforo. And I suppose he will be asked to resign his post. It isn’t to be expected that Washington will continue him here under the circumstances. Personally I shall not be sorry to return to the United States, but I fear that dad will feel keenly the disgrace of being recalled.” The Camera Chap made no comment on this, but there was a thought in his mind which did not find expression until a few days later when he arrived at Washington and presented himself at the White House. The President of the United States received his photographic envoy with marked cordiality, and gazed appreciatively at the snapshot which the latter handed him with the simple announcement: “Here is the picture, Mr. President, which you instructed me to take.” The chief executive smiled quizzically. “I must compliment you on the manner in which you have carried out my instructions, sir,” he said formally. “Thank you for the picture. I fear that you must have had considerable trouble in getting it.” Then suddenly the quizzical smile left his face, and his hand went out and grasped that of Hawley in a strenuous grip. “Well done, sir,” he exclaimed, in a tone that was by no means formal. “I shan’t forget your splendid, plucky work, my boy.” It was a little late when the subject of reward was brought up, and the president was offering the Camera Chap a lucrative position in the United States secret service, that the latter spoke the thought which was in his mind when he had that conversation with Virginia on board the _Kearsarge_. “I don’t want anything for myself, sir,” Hawley said. “But--if you won’t think me too presumptuous--I would like to ask a favor on behalf of somebody else. I understand that there is talk of Minister Throgmorton being recalled as a result of the latest developments in Baracoa. If you could see your way to permit him to retain his post it would be giving me a greater reward than I deserve.”