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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 1308/1581
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On
the
afternoon
of
September
11
,
a
copper
wire
broke
in
Minnesota
,
stopping
the
belts
of
a
grain
elevator
at
a
small
country
station
of
Taggart
Transcontinental
.
A
flood
of
wheat
was
moving
down
the
highways
,
the
roads
,
the
abandoned
trails
of
the
countryside
,
emptying
thousands
of
acres
of
farmland
upon
the
fragile
dams
of
the
railroad
’
s
stations
.
It
was
moving
day
and
night
,
the
first
trickles
growing
into
streams
,
then
rivers
,
then
torrents
—
moving
on
palsied
trucks
with
coughing
,
tubercular
motors
—
on
wagons
pulled
by
the
rusty
skeletons
of
starving
horses
—
on
carts
pulled
by
oxen
—
on
the
nerves
and
last
energy
of
men
who
had
lived
through
two
years
of
disaster
for
the
triumphant
reward
of
this
autumn
’
s
giant
harvest
,
men
who
had
patched
their
trucks
and
carts
with
wire
,
blankets
,
ropes
and
sleepless
nights
,
to
make
them
hold
together
for
this
one
more
journey
,
to
carry
the
grain
and
collapse
at
destination
,
but
to
give
their
owners
a
chance
at
survival
.
Every
year
,
at
this
season
,
another
movement
had
gone
clicking
across
the
country
,
drawing
freight
cars
from
all
corners
of
the
continent
to
the
Minnesota
Division
of
Taggart
Transcontinental
,
the
beat
of
train
wheels
preceding
the
creak
of
the
wagons
,
like
an
advance
echo
rigorously
planned
,
ordered
and
timed
to
meet
the
flood
.
The
Minnesota
Division
drowsed
through
the
year
,
to
come
to
violent
life
for
the
weeks
of
the
harvest
;
fourteen
thousand
freight
cars
had
jammed
its
yards
each
year
;
fifteen
thousand
were
expected
this
time
.
The
first
of
the
wheat
trains
had
started
to
channel
the
flood
into
the
hungry
flour
mills
,
then
bakeries
,
then
stomachs
of
the
nation
—
but
every
train
,
car
and
storage
elevator
counted
,
and
there
was
no
minute
or
inch
of
space
to
spare
.
Eddie
Willers
watched
Dagny
’
s
face
as
she
went
through
the
cards
of
her
emergency
file
;
he
could
tell
the
content
of
the
cards
by
her
expression
.
"
The
Terminal
,
"
she
said
quietly
,
closing
the
file
.
"
Phone
the
Terminal
downstairs
and
have
them
ship
half
their
stock
of
wire
to
Minnesota
.
"
Eddie
said
nothing
and
obeyed
.
He
said
nothing
,
the
morning
when
he
put
on
her
desk
a
telegram
from
the
Taggart
office
in
Washington
,
informing
them
of
the
directive
which
,
due
to
the
critical
shortage
of
copper
,
ordered
government
agents
to
seize
all
copper
mines
and
operate
them
as
a
public
utility
.
"
Well
,
"
she
said
,
dropping
the
telegram
into
the
wastebasket
,
"
that
’
s
the
end
of
Montana
.
"
She
said
nothing
when
James
Taggart
announced
to
her
that
he
was
issuing
an
order
to
discontinue
all
dining
cars
on
Taggart
trains
.
"
We
can
’
t
afford
it
any
longer
,
"
he
explained
,
"
we
’
ve
always
lost
money
on
those
goddamn
diners
,
and
when
there
’
s
no
food
to
get
,
when
restaurants
are
closing
because
they
can
’
t
grab
hold
of
a
pound
of
horse
meat
anywhere
,
how
can
railroads
be
expected
to
do
it
?
Why
in
hell
should
we
have
to
feed
the
passengers
,
anyway
?
They
’
re
lucky
if
we
give
them
transportation
,
they
’
d
travel
in
cattle
cars
if
necessary
,
let
’
em
pack
their
own
box
lunches
,
what
do
we
care
?
—
they
’
ve
got
no
other
trains
to
take
!
"
The
telephone
on
her
desk
had
become
,
not
a
voice
of
business
,
but
an
alarm
siren
for
the
desperate
appeals
of
disaster
.
