Pelle told him about his great plan for coöperative works. The old man knew indeed a good deal about it; it appeared that he had followed Pelle’s movements from a distance.
“That’s perhaps not so out of the way,” he said. “We might squeeze capital out of existence just as quietly, if we all bestirred ourselves. But you must get the Movement to join you; and it must be made clear that every one who doesn’t support his own set is a black-leg.”
“I have got a connection, but it goes rather slowly,” said Pelle.
“Then we must stir them up a little. I say, that queer fellow—Brun, I think you call him—doesn’t he live with you?”
“He isn’t a queer fellow,” said Pelle, laughing. “We can go up and see him.”
Brun and Stolpe very soon found something to talk about. They were of the same age, and had witnessed the first days of the Movement, each from his own side. Madam Stolpe came several times and pulled her husband by the coat: they ought to be going home.
“Well, it’s not worth while to quarrel with your own wife,” said Stolpe at last; “but I shall come again. I hear you’re building out here, and I should like to see what our own houses’ll be like.”
“We’ve not begun yet,” answered Pelle. “But come out on Sunday, and Brun and I will show it all to you.”
“I suppose it’s masters who’ll get it?” asked Stolpe.
“No, we thought of letting the unemployed have the work if they could undertake it, and have a man to put at the head,” said Brun. “Perhaps you could undertake it?”