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"
Yes
,
Miss
Taggart
,
certainly
,
yes
,
indeed
.
.
.
Monday
morning
?
Yes
—
look
,
Miss
Taggart
,
I
have
an
engagement
in
New
York
today
,
I
could
drop
in
at
your
office
this
afternoon
,
if
you
wish
.
.
.
No
,
no
—
no
trouble
at
all
,
I
’
ll
be
delighted
.
.
.
This
afternoon
,
Miss
Taggart
,
about
two
—
I
mean
,
about
four
o
’
clock
.
"
He
had
no
engagement
in
New
York
.
He
did
not
give
himself
time
to
know
what
had
prompted
him
to
do
it
.
He
was
smiling
eagerly
,
looking
at
a
patch
of
sunlight
on
a
distant
hill
.
Dagny
drew
a
black
line
across
Train
Number
93
on
the
schedule
,
and
felt
a
moment
’
s
desolate
satisfaction
in
noting
that
she
did
it
calmly
.
It
was
an
action
which
she
had
had
to
perform
many
times
in
the
last
six
months
.
It
had
been
hard
,
at
first
;
it
was
becoming
easier
.
The
day
would
come
,
she
thought
,
when
she
would
be
able
to
deliver
that
death
stroke
even
without
the
small
salute
of
an
effort
.
Train
Number
93
was
a
freight
that
had
earned
its
living
by
carrying
supplies
to
Hammondsville
,
Colorado
.
She
knew
what
steps
would
come
next
:
first
,
the
death
of
the
special
freights
—
then
the
shrinking
in
the
number
of
boxcars
for
Hammondsville
,
attached
,
like
poor
relatives
,
to
the
rear
end
of
freights
bound
for
other
towns
—
then
the
gradual
cutting
of
the
stops
at
Hammondsville
Station
from
the
schedules
of
the
passenger
trains
—
then
the
day
when
she
would
strike
Hammondsville
,
Colorado
,
off
the
map
.
That
had
been
the
progression
of
Wyatt
Junction
and
of
the
town
called
Stockton
.
She
knew
—
once
word
was
received
that
Lawrence
Hammond
had
retired
—
that
it
was
useless
to
wait
,
to
hope
and
to
wonder
whether
his
cousin
,
his
lawyer
or
a
committee
of
local
citizens
would
reopen
the
plant
.
She
knew
it
was
time
to
start
cutting
the
schedules
.
It
had
lasted
less
than
six
months
after
Ellis
Wyatt
had
gone
—
that
period
which
a
columnist
had
gleefully
called
"
the
field
day
of
the
little
fellow
.
"
Every
oil
operator
in
the
country
,
who
owned
three
wells
and
whined
that
Ellis
Wyatt
left
him
no
chance
of
livelihood
,
had
rushed
to
fill
the
hole
which
Wyatt
had
left
wide
open
.
They
formed
leagues
,
cooperatives
,
associations
;
they
pooled
their
resources
and
their
letter
heads
,
"
The
little
fellow
’
s
day
in
the
sun
,
"
the
columnist
had
said
.
Their
sun
had
been
the
flames
that
twisted
through
the
derricks
of
Wyatt
Oil
.
In
its
glare
,
they
made
the
kind
of
fortunes
they
had
dreamed
about
,
fortunes
requiring
no
competence
or
effort
.
Then
their
biggest
customers
,
such
as
power
companies
,
who
drank
oil
by
the
trainful
and
would
make
no
allowances
for
human
frailty
,
began
to
convert
to
coal
—
and
the
smaller
customers
,
who
were
more
tolerant
,
began
to
go
out
of
business
—
the
boys
in
Washington
imposed
rationing
on
oil
and
an
emergency
tax
on
employers
to
support
the
unemployed
oil
field
workers
—
then
a
few
of
the
big
oil
companies
closed
down
—
then
the
little
fellows
in
the
sun
discovered
that
a
drilling
bit
which
had
cost
a
hundred
dollars
,
now
cost
them
five
hundred
,
there
being
no
market
for
oil
field
equipment
,
and
the
suppliers
having
to
earn
on
one
drill
what
they
had
earned
on
five
,
or
perish
—
then
the
pipe
lines
began
to
close
,
there
being
no
one
able
to
pay
for
their
upkeep
—
then
the
railroads
were
granted
permission
to
raise
their
freight
rates
,
there
being
little
oil
to
carry
and
the
cost
of
running
tank
trains
having
crushed
two
small
lines
out
of
existence
—
and
when
the
sun
went
down
,
they
saw
that
the
operating
costs
,
which
had
once
permitted
them
to
exist
on
their
sixty
-
acre
fields
,
had
been
made
possible
by
the
miles
of
Wyatt
’
s
hillside
and
had
gone
in
the
same
coils
of
smoke
.
Not
until
their
fortunes
had
vanished
and
their
pumps
had
stopped
,
did
the
little
fellows
realize
that
no
business
in
the
country
could
afford
to
buy
oil
at
the
price
it
would
now
take
them
to
produce
it
.
