ote. At mention of the organization a multitude of
possibilities overwhelmed him. He thought that Hoeflinger knew
everything, and when he saw him retain his composure he dropped his
last claim and looked up to this specimen of human greatness that had
grown out of greater depths and had been formed by higher laws than he
suspected.

Victor sighed deeply and raised his dim eyes to Hoeflinger. "Forgive me,
I was crazy," said he shaking his head. "I understand nothing of all
this. If you can prevent it, don't have me expelled from the
organization. Do you hear? If you want, I will immediately take my
leave."

Hoeflinger looked at him astonished. "Do you care at all for the union?"
he asked. "I don't understand you. Why should you be expelled? Besides,
even if I wanted it, I should not have the power to do it."

Victor's head dropped; suddenly he gave himself up. "It was I who
damaged the machine the first time. But not after that. Now you will
have to tell on me, Hoeflinger. Did you not know it? Why am I to leave
your house?"

Hoeflinger opened his eyes wide, as if he could not take in enough
knowledge of this peculiar fellow. "Because my wife is about to become
a mother and wants to be alone with--it, and with me," he replied with
tension. "Why did you ask?"

"Oh, I thought it was from revenge--or something." Victor passed his
trembling hands over his brow and his hair. "It is all humbug," he
added with bitterness.

Slowly Hoeflinger began to comprehend. "The individual is a humbug,
Pratteler," he added with precision and knowingly nodded at him.

"And yet you want to be a father," remarked Victor. "Your child will be
nothing better."

Hoeflinger grabbed his coat; he saw that all were getting ready and
collecting in groups. "A man like me becomes not a father, but a
brother, when his wife gives birth to children," he remarked as if to
change the subject. "But why did you want to attack me? Did I offend
you without knowing?"

Victor reddened violently and shook his head. "I can't tell you," he
replied and grabbed his coat.

A workingman came running up the aisle. "Strike!" he called from far
and swung his hat. "Strike, Hoeflinger!" The long one nodded; it did not
seem to surprise him. For him particularly it meant that he would open
the food centre and realize his ideal. Victor forgot his coat when he
heard the word "strike." Cold and hot shivers ran over him. Now he
stood there as a little modest workingman