At that Andy stepped into view, and the guide explained that the hall had the properties of a "whispering gallery," and that half his fun in life came through playing this simple trick on unsuspecting visitors.
"It is a good trick, all right," admitted Tubby, grinning, "and I won't hold it against you, Mr. Guide!"
From this room,—in Daniel Webster's day the Hall of Representatives,—the boys were led to the doors of the present legislative chambers and permitted brief views of the imposing desks, arranged in semi-circular rows, at which the men sent from all over the nation sit in long sessions of serious deliberation. On the day of the scouts' visit, Congress was not in session and there was nothing to prevent the boys from peopling the empty seats with men of their own imagination.
"Some day maybe you and Merritt will sit there," said Tubby to Rob.
"Why not you, Tubby?" asked Merritt quickly.
"Oh, me?" questioned the fat boy in alarm. "This is no place for me. Give me a good steady job that I can keep at till it's finished. Perhaps I'll join the Secret Service!" And Tubby patted the pocket where the odd shaving lay.
After lingering briefly in admiration before the paintings that adorned these rooms and the statues that punctuated the long corridors, the guide conducted the boys to the foot of the stairs that led to the lofty dome above the Rotunda.
"Better not hurry," he cautioned them, glancing at Tubby's bulk. "There are three hundred and nineteen steps between us and the top gallery."
"I'm game," said Tubby quickly. "Come on, fellers. It can't be so bad as horseback riding in Mexico!"
When about two-thirds of the way up, the guide halted the boys to demonstrate a second "whispering gallery," and there he placed Rob and Merritt sixty-five feet apart to enjoy a private conversation! Tubby refused to be convinced without a trial himself, so he and Andy tested the acoustic properties of the gallery until they were satisfied that the guide's claims were well founded.