I didn't say anything. I was thinking. Here was a man that had been with all those people yesterday, the people that were the way I wanted to be. He had always been with them. He had money, I thought--his clothes and his cuffs, and then the car, looked as if he had. Probably he knew the same things, almost, that Mr. Ember knew. He ought to be able to help me. "Mr. Carney," I says, "have you been to see Europe, and Asia--and volcanoes?" "Have I _what_?" says he. "Oh," I says, "traveled. Well, I guess you _have_ seen all the things and places there are to see, haven't you?" "I've done a turn or two," he says. "Why? Are you interested in travel?" "Oh, yes," I says; "but--of course--" "Do you want to travel?" he says, turning to look at me. "Why," I says; "but I mean--" He stopped the car for the policeman at the next corner. "Because," he says, leaning on the wheel again, "if you want to travel, you shall travel." It was almost what Mr. Ember had said. I was so thankful that now I knew enough to answer nice, and not the awful way I had done to Mr. Ember. "I hope so," I says. "I do want to." I thought he was waiting for me to look round at him; but there was a little dog in the automobile next to us, and I was watching that. "When?" he says. "When?" I says, "The gentleman blew his whistle." He laughed, and started the car, and I went on with what I'd been wanting to say. "I was thinking," I says, "you've probably seen a whole lots of folks, like I mean about. Well, I wanted to ask you: How do folks get different? I mean, when they've started in being like me?" "What do you mean, child?" he says. "Get different," I says. "Get like those women there yesterday." "There wasn't a woman in the room yesterday who could hold a candle to you, and you know it," he says. "Ever since yesterday I've been cursing myself that I didn't follow you. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you come into that office this morning. Why in the world would you want to be different?" I wanted to say, "Because I want something more than that in mine!" But I didn't. I spoke just regular. "No," I says, "I mean true. I mean, learn things. Not school things, but how to do. How do you start out? I mean, if it's me?" He kept looking at me, in between guiding his car. "So that's it!" he says. "And you want me to tell you?" "Yes!" I says. "More than anything else." He turned his car into a side street, and run it slow. We was almost to the factory, I judged. I could see smoke and big walls. "You can have whatever schooling or training there is in this town that you want--or anywhere else," he says to me, "if you just say the word." It was just the way Mr. Ember had spoken, and Mr. Ember had meant that I mustn't think there was nothing else for me only just what I'd got, if I was willing to work for something more. So I see the little young man must think as he did. "It's nice to think so," I says. "Do you mean it?" says he.