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"
Muscles
,
Miss
Taggart
,
"
Ben
Nealy
,
the
contractor
,
had
said
to
her
,
"
muscles
—
that
’
s
all
it
takes
to
build
anything
in
the
world
.
"
No
contractor
equal
to
McNamara
seemed
to
exist
anywhere
.
She
had
taken
the
best
she
could
find
.
No
engineer
on
the
Taggart
staff
could
be
trusted
to
supervise
the
job
;
all
of
them
were
skeptical
about
the
new
metal
.
"
Frankly
,
Miss
Taggart
,
"
her
chief
engineer
had
said
,
"
since
it
is
an
experiment
that
nobody
has
ever
attempted
before
,
I
do
not
think
it
’
s
fair
that
it
should
be
my
responsibility
.
"
"
It
’
s
mine
,
"
she
had
answered
.
He
was
a
man
in
his
forties
,
who
still
preserved
the
breezy
manner
of
the
college
from
which
he
had
graduated
.
Once
,
Taggart
Transcontinental
had
had
a
chief
engineer
,
a
silent
,
gray
-
haired
,
self
educated
man
,
who
could
not
be
matched
on
any
railroad
.
He
had
resigned
,
five
years
ago
.
She
glanced
down
over
the
bridge
.
She
was
standing
on
a
slender
beam
of
steel
above
a
gorge
that
had
cracked
the
mountains
to
a
depth
of
fifteen
hundred
feet
.
Far
at
the
bottom
,
she
could
distinguish
the
dim
outlines
of
a
dry
river
bed
,
of
piled
boulders
,
of
trees
contorted
by
centuries
.
She
wondered
whether
boulders
,
tree
trunks
and
muscles
could
ever
bridge
that
canyon
.
She
wondered
why
she
found
herself
thinking
suddenly
that
cave
-
dwellers
had
lived
naked
on
the
bottom
of
that
canyon
for
ages
.
She
looked
up
at
the
Wyatt
oil
fields
.
The
track
broke
into
sidings
among
the
wells
.
She
saw
the
small
disks
of
switches
dotted
against
the
snow
.
They
were
metal
switches
,
of
the
kind
that
were
scattered
in
thousands
,
unnoticed
,
throughout
the
country
—
but
these
were
sparkling
in
the
sun
and
the
sparks
were
greenish
-
blue
.
What
they
meant
to
her
was
hour
upon
hour
of
speaking
quietly
,
evenly
,
patiently
,
trying
to
hit
the
center
less
target
that
was
the
person
of
Mr
.
Mowen
,
president
of
the
Amalgamated
Switch
and
Signal
Company
,
Inc
.
,
of
Connecticut
.
"
But
,
Miss
Taggart
,
my
dear
Miss
Taggart
!
My
company
has
served
your
company
for
generations
,
why
,
your
grandfather
was
the
first
customer
of
my
grandfather
,
so
you
cannot
doubt
our
eagerness
to
do
anything
you
ask
,
but
—
did
you
say
switches
made
of
Rearden
Metal
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
But
,
Miss
Taggart
!
Consider
what
it
would
mean
,
having
to
work
with
that
metal
.
Do
you
know
that
the
stuff
won
’
t
melt
under
less
than
four
thousand
degrees
?
.
.
.
Great
?
Well
,
maybe
that
’
s
great
for
motor
manufacturers
,
but
what
I
’
m
thinking
of
is
that
it
means
a
new
type
of
furnace
,
a
new
process
entirely
,
men
to
be
trained
,
schedules
upset
,
work
rules
shot
,
everything
balled
up
and
then
God
only
knows
whether
it
will
come
out
right
or
not
!
.
.
.
How
do
you
know
,
Miss
Taggart
?
How
can
you
know
,
when
it
’
s
never
been
done
before
?
.
.
.
Well
,
I
can
’
t
say
that
that
metal
is
good
and
I
can
’
t
say
that
it
isn
’
t
.
