It took Bates more than half an hour to tell of some of Hawley’s most notable performances, and the president’s face lighted up as he listened. “Why,” he exclaimed enthusiastically, “the Camera Chap must be a remarkable character! Does he ever come to Washington? I should very much like to meet him. You might make it a point to mention that to your managing editor the next time you communicate with your office, Mr. Bates.” “I will be sure to do so, Mr. President,” said the _Sentinel_ representative, who, being far from dull-witted, and well acquainted with the chief executive’s methods, surmised that there was behind this request some special motive. As a result of the message which Bates sent over the wire which connected the _Sentinel’s_ Washington bureau with the home office, a tall, slender young man, with a prepossessing countenance and a twinkle in his keen eyes, arrived at the capital the following afternoon. Bates greeted him effusively. “Welcome to our city, Hawley, old man!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know whether the president contemplates offering you a position in his cabinet or whether he merely wants his picture taken, but, whatever the reason, he’s very keen to meet you. His secretary called me up this morning to make sure you were coming; and when I told him that you were on your way to Washington he sent over this note for you.” Bates handed Hawley a square envelope, on which the address of the executive mansion was embossed. The Camera Chap opened it, and read its contents over twice, the expression of surprise on his face intensifying as he did so. “Are you sure this isn’t a practical joke?” he inquired half incredulously, handing Bates the note. An envious look came to the other’s face as he glanced at it. “That’s going some!” he exclaimed. “You certainly are lucky, old man. Some of us Washington correspondents pride ourselves on being pals with the president, but he’s never invited any of _us_ to lunch at the White House.” CHAPTER II. A MATTER IN CONFIDENCE. When the Camera Chap went to keep his luncheon appointment the following morning, Bates, who had some business to attend to at the treasury department, accompanied him as far as the White House grounds. As they were walking along Pennsylvania Avenue, a splendid touring car, with a silver crest on the door panels and a liveried footman on the box, passed them by. It contained two women, one of them a blonde, the other very dark. The former, recognizing Bates on the sidewalk, bowed graciously. “That is Mrs. Fred V. Cooper, wife of the attorney general,” the correspondent explained to his companion, noting that the latter was staring at the automobile, as though fascinated. “She’s one of the beauties of Washington.” “And the other woman--the dark one--who is she?” the Camera Chap demanded eagerly.