Madge could see it all, and the scheme was a noble one in her eyes, which ought to be workable—if they could only get rid of the drones. But that ‘if’ introduced Philip to his troubles.
The question as to the price of the land Philip desired to purchase had been settled with amazing promptitude after he had, in the rough but emphatic phrase, ‘put his foot down.’ Wrentham came to him with looks of triumph and the exclamation, ‘See the conquering hero comes.’ He was under the impression that he had done a good stroke of business.
‘I treated the greedy beggars to what I call the don’t-care-a-brass-farthing style. I was only an agent, and my principal said take it or leave it. I didn’t care which way they decided, at the same time I had a conviction that they were throwing away a good offer—cash down. We had some fencing—I wish you had been there—and at last they agreed to accept a sum which is only two hundred beyond what you offered, so I closed the bargain.’
The difference was not of much consequence; but for a moment Philip thought it strange that Wrentham had been able to conclude the bargain so easily after what he had told him. The thought, however, passed from his mind immediately.
Now came the business of starting the work. Here Caleb Kersey proved useful, not only in organising the labourers but in dealing with the mechanics. The difficulty was much the same with the skilled and unskilled workers—namely, to enable them to understand that it was better and honester to employer and employed to be paid for the work done than for the time spent over it. Prospective profit did not count for anything in the minds of most of the men; and the ‘honesty’ that was in the system was regarded as only another word for extra profit to the employer.
‘Gammon!’ was the general remark; ‘you don’t take us in with that chaff. We get so much an hour, and we mean to have it.’
In spite of this, however, Philip, aided by Caleb, collected a band of workmen sufficient for his purpose. For a time all went well. There were grumblings occasionally; but most of the men began in a short time to comprehend how they could improve their own position by the amount of work produced. But these presently found themselves hampered and scoffed at by those whose chief object was to ‘put in time.’ That was the grievance of the real workers: the grievance of the master, which was not found out until too late, was that the highest market price for the best materials was paid for the worst. The groans became more numerous, and their outcries louder, as their pay decreased in accordance with their own decrease of production. But they said they had ‘put in time,’ and ought to be paid accordingly. They were completely satisfied with this argument, which proved to themselves beyond question that they were being injured by the man who pretended to be their friend.
Next the unions spoke, and all the men who belonged to them were withdrawn. Those who remained were picketed and boycotted until Philip took what was considered by his friends another mad step.
‘Look here, lads, you who are willing to stand by me—you shall have your home in the works, and before long we shall have help enough. I am sorry that we should have had this breakdown; but I expected something of the sort; and when I started this scheme of mutual labour for mutual profit—I ought to say the system of individual work—I was prepared to encounter much misunderstanding, but I was inspired by the hope that in the end I should find real help amongst the real workers. I am convinced that there are plenty of men willing to work if they can find it. Now, why should we not work together? The principle is a very simple one, and easily understood. You want to get as much as you can. So do I. But in getting it, let us try to deserve it by really earning it. I am trying to earn my share of the profit that ought to come from the capital that I hold in trust. At the same time, I will not allow any man to share with me who says he cannot produce, but must be paid for the time he spends inside our gates.’
He was striving to bridge that troublous sea which lies between capital and labour; and the great pillars of his bridge were to be productive labour on the one side and honest buyers on the other. The men applauded these sentiments, satisfied that nothing was wanting except the honest buyers.