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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 138/1581
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His
first
estate
in
Argentina
was
a
wooden
shack
in
the
foothills
of
the
Andes
.
The
sun
blazed
like
a
beacon
on
the
silver
coat
-
of
-
arms
of
the
d
‘
Anconias
,
nailed
over
the
door
of
the
shack
,
while
Sebastián
d
’
Anconia
dug
for
the
copper
of
his
first
mine
.
He
spent
years
,
pickax
in
hand
,
breaking
rock
from
sunrise
till
darkness
,
with
the
help
of
a
few
stray
derelicts
:
deserters
from
the
armies
of
his
countrymen
,
escaped
convicts
,
starving
Indians
.
Fifteen
years
after
he
left
Spain
,
Sebastián
d
‘
Anconia
sent
for
the
girl
he
loved
;
she
had
waited
for
him
.
When
she
arrived
,
she
found
the
silver
coat
-
of
-
arms
above
the
entrance
of
a
marble
palace
,
the
gardens
of
a
great
estate
,
and
mountains
slashed
by
pits
of
red
ore
in
the
distance
.
He
carried
her
in
his
arms
across
the
threshold
of
his
home
.
He
looked
younger
than
when
she
had
seen
him
last
.
"
My
ancestor
and
yours
,
"
Francisco
told
Dagny
,
"
would
have
liked
each
other
.
"
Through
the
years
of
her
childhood
,
Dagny
lived
in
the
future
—
in
the
world
she
expected
to
find
,
where
she
would
not
have
to
feel
contempt
or
boredom
.
But
for
one
month
each
year
,
she
was
free
.
For
one
month
,
she
could
live
in
the
present
.
When
she
raced
down
the
hill
to
meet
Francisco
d
‘
Anconia
,
it
was
a
release
from
prison
.
"
Hi
,
Slug
!
"
"
Hi
,
Frisco
!
"
They
had
both
resented
the
nicknames
,
at
first
.
She
had
asked
him
angrily
,
"
What
do
you
think
you
mean
?
"
He
had
answered
,
"
In
case
you
don
’
t
know
it
,
‘
Slug
’
means
a
great
fire
in
a
locomotive
firebox
.
"
"
Where
did
you
pick
that
up
?
"
"
From
the
gentlemen
along
the
Taggart
iron
.
"
He
spoke
five
languages
,
and
he
spoke
English
without
a
trace
of
accent
,
a
precise
,
cultured
English
deliberately
mixed
with
slang
.
She
had
retaliated
by
calling
him
Frisco
.
He
had
laughed
,
amused
and
annoyed
.
"
If
you
barbarians
had
to
degrade
the
name
of
a
great
city
of
yours
,
you
could
at
least
refrain
from
doing
it
to
me
.
"
But
they
had
grown
to
like
the
nicknames
.
It
had
started
in
the
days
of
their
second
summer
together
,
when
he
was
twelve
years
old
and
she
was
ten
.
That
summer
,
Francisco
began
vanishing
every
morning
for
some
purpose
nobody
could
discover
.
He
went
off
on
his
bicycle
before
dawn
,
and
returned
in
time
to
appear
at
the
white
and
crystal
table
set
for
lunch
on
the
terrace
,
his
manner
courteously
punctual
and
a
little
too
innocent
.
He
laughed
,
refusing
to
answer
,
when
Dagny
and
Eddie
questioned
him
.
They
tried
to
follow
him
once
,
through
the
cold
,
pre
-
morning
darkness
,
but
they
gave
it
up
;
no
one
could
track
him
when
he
did
not
want
to
be
tracked
.
After
a
while
,
Mrs
.
Taggart
began
to
worry
and
decided
to
investigate
.
She
never
learned
how
he
had
managed
to
by
-
pass
all
the
child
-
labor
laws
,
but
she
found
Francisco
working
—
by
an
unofficial
deal
with
the
dispatcher
—
as
a
call
boy
for
Taggart
Transcontinental
,
at
a
division
point
ten
miles
away
.
The
dispatcher
was
stupefied
by
her
personal
visit
;
he
had
no
idea
that
his
call
boy
was
a
house
guest
of
the
Taggarts
.
The
boy
was
known
to
the
local
railroad
crews
as
Frankie
,
and
Mrs
.
Taggart
preferred
not
to
enlighten
them
about
his
full
name
.
She
merely
explained
that
he
was
working
without
his
parents
’
permission
and
had
to
quit
at
once
.
The
dispatcher
was
sorry
to
lose
him
;
Frankie
,
he
said
,
was
the
best
call
boy
they
had
ever
had
.
"
I
’
d
sure
like
to
keep
him
on
.
Maybe
we
could
make
a
deal
with
his
parents
?
"
he
suggested
.
"
I
’
m
afraid
not
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Taggart
faintly
.
