The drift of the conversation was personal. The thoughts of youth are largely personal. The universe is measured by one's own thumb in the twenties. "Funny, isn't it," said Grant, playing with a honeysuckle vine that climbed the post beside him, "I guess I'm the only one of the old crowd who is outlawed in overalls. There's Freddie Kollander and Nate Perry and cousin Morty and little Joe Calvin, all up town counterjumping or working in offices. The girls all getting married." He paused. "But as far as that goes I'm making more money than any of the fellows!" He paused again a moment and added as he gazed moodily into the pillars of smoke rising above South Harvey, "Gee, but I'll miss you when you're gone--" The girl's silvery laugh greeted his words. "Now, Grant," she said, "where do you think I'm going? Why, Tom and I will be only a block from here--just over on Tenth Street in the Perry House." Grant grinned as he shook his head. "You're lost and gone forever, just the same, Miss Clementine. In about three years I'll probably be that 'red-headed boss carpenter in the mine----let me see, what's his name?'" "Oh, Grant," scoffed the girl. She saw that his heart was sadder than his face. She took courage and said: "Grant, you never can know how often I think of you--how much I want you to win everything worth while in this world, how much I want you to be happy--how I believe in you and--and--bet on you, Grant--bet on you!" Grant did not answer her. Presently he looked up and over the broad valley below them. The sun behind the house was touching the limestone ledge far across the valley with golden rays. The smoke from South Harvey on their right was lighted also. The youth looked into the smoke. Then he turned his eyes back from the glowing smoke and spoke. "This is how I look at it. I don't mean you're any different from any one else. What I was trying to say was that I'm the only one of our old crowd in the High School you know that used to have parties and go together in the old days--I'm the only one that's wearing overalls, and my way is down there"; he nodded his head toward the mines and smelters and factories in the valley. "Look at these hands," he said, solemnly spreading out his wide, muscular hands on his knees; showing one bruised blue-black finger nail. The hands were flinty and hairy and brown, but they looked effective with an intelligence almost apart from the body which they served.