"Joe," he said, "I wonder if I couldn't go to one of those night schools and increase my speed in typewriting and stenography."
"Sure you could," was the reply; "I know a good place, and I'll take you there tonight if you want me to do it."
Barry was willing, and the two boys proceeded to one of the business colleges in the lower section of the city and obtained an interview with the manager. Barry placed his case very clearly.
"I am anxious to get speed in stenography and typewriting, and learn bookkeeping," he said, "and if I thought I could get through in three months I'd be glad to undertake it."
The teacher, thus appealed to, reflected a moment before replying, and then said:
"It all depends on your own ability. Some boys are quicker than others. If you want to join this school we will do the best we can for you within the time appointed. We have branches in all of the large cities, and if you do not get through here while you are in Washington you could readily finish your course elsewhere."
The terms were satisfactory, and Barry made his arrangements then and there. Indeed, he was so filled with the idea of perfecting himself that he started in to work that very night. Every evening thereafter, as soon as he had finished his supper, he went to the business college and for two or three hours was busy learning the intricacies of stenography and typewriting. Bookkeeping he finally decided to omit, feeling that he could make greater progress if he confined himself to the other two branches.
Three weeks had gone by and Barry was returning from his school one night when something prompted him to go into the office building of the members of Congress. He walked through the corridor leading to Mr. Carlton's office and noticed that a light was burning there. After a minute's hesitancy, he opened the door and walked in. Congressman Carlton was at his desk with a pile of papers about him. He greeted Barry very kindly:
"Hello!" he said; "glad to see you."