I'm out of a job, true enough, and out of the
plant; but after all, I'm free--and I know what's in the wind!
"There's yet hope. There'll be a way, a way to do this work! What a man
_must_ do, he _can_ do!"
Up came Armstrong's chin, as he walked. His shoulders squared, with
strength and purpose, and his stride swung into the easy machine gait
that had already carried him so many thousand miles along the hard and
bitter highways of the world.
As he strode away, on the long road toward he knew not what, words
seemed to form and shape in his strengthened and refortified mind--words
for long years forgotten--words that he once had heard at his mother's
knee:
"_He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city!_"
CHAPTER X.
A GLIMPSE AT THE PARASITES.
The Longmeadow Country Club, on the Saturday afternoon following
Armstrong's abrupt dismissal, was a scene of gaiety and beauty without
compare. Set in broad acres of wood and lawn, the club-house proudly
dominated far-flung golf-links and nearer tennis-courts.
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