There's a moon in a clear sky in San Francisco tonight, but there's a fore sure of winter in the wind which blows off the pacific. Up in Seacliff, the trees are restlessly tossing their branches outside the Barbour family home, but within, there is serenity. The head of the house of Barbour sits before his fire, and in his face there is measureless content and satisfaction. He feels that he is at last getting somewhere in his struggle to get his grandson to settle down to work.