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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 773/1581
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On
the
evening
of
February
15
,
a
plate
cracked
on
a
rail
joint
and
sent
an
engine
off
the
track
,
half
a
mile
from
Winston
,
Colorado
,
on
a
division
which
was
to
have
been
relaid
with
the
new
rail
.
The
station
agent
of
Winston
sighed
and
sent
for
a
crew
with
a
crane
;
it
was
only
one
of
the
minor
accidents
that
were
happening
in
his
section
every
other
day
or
so
,
he
was
getting
used
to
it
.
Rearden
,
that
evening
,
his
coat
collar
raised
,
his
hat
slanted
low
over
his
eyes
,
the
snow
drifts
rising
to
his
knees
,
was
tramping
through
an
abandoned
open
-
pit
coal
mine
,
in
a
forsaken
corner
of
Pennsylvania
,
supervising
the
loading
of
pirated
coal
upon
the
trucks
which
he
had
provided
.
Nobody
owned
the
mine
,
nobody
could
afford
the
cost
of
working
it
.
But
a
young
man
with
a
brusque
voice
and
dark
,
angry
eyes
,
who
came
from
a
starving
settlement
,
had
organized
a
gang
of
the
unemployed
and
made
a
deal
with
Rearden
to
deliver
the
coal
.
They
mined
it
at
night
,
they
stored
it
in
hidden
culverts
,
they
were
paid
in
cash
,
with
no
questions
asked
or
answered
.
Guilty
of
a
fierce
desire
to
remain
alive
,
they
and
Rearden
traded
like
savages
,
without
rights
,
titles
,
contracts
or
protection
,
with
nothing
but
mutual
understanding
and
a
ruthlessly
absolute
observance
of
one
’
s
given
word
.
Rearden
did
not
even
know
the
name
of
the
young
leader
.
Watching
him
at
the
job
of
loading
the
trucks
,
Rearden
thought
that
this
boy
,
if
born
a
generation
earlier
,
would
have
become
a
great
industrialist
;
now
,
he
would
probably
end
his
brief
life
as
a
plain
criminal
in
a
few
more
years
.
Dagny
,
that
evening
,
was
facing
a
meeting
of
the
Taggart
Board
of
Directors
.
They
sat
about
a
polished
table
in
a
stately
Board
room
which
was
inadequately
heated
.
The
men
who
,
through
the
decades
of
their
careers
,
had
relied
for
their
security
upon
keeping
their
faces
blank
,
their
words
inconclusive
and
their
clothes
impeccable
,
were
thrown
off
-
key
by
the
sweaters
stretched
over
their
stomachs
,
by
the
mufflers
wound
about
their
necks
,
by
the
sound
of
coughing
that
cut
through
the
discussion
too
frequently
,
like
the
rattle
of
a
machine
gun
.
She
noted
that
Jim
had
lost
the
smoothness
of
his
usual
performance
.
He
sat
with
his
head
drawn
into
his
shoulders
,
and
his
eyes
kept
darting
too
rapidly
from
face
to
face
.
A
man
from
Washington
sat
at
the
table
among
them
.
Nobody
knew
his
exact
job
or
title
,
but
it
was
not
necessary
:
they
knew
that
he
was
the
man
from
Washington
.
His
name
was
Mr
.
Weatherby
,
he
had
graying
temples
,
a
long
,
narrow
face
and
a
mouth
that
looked
as
if
he
had
to
stretch
his
facial
muscles
in
order
to
keep
it
closed
;
this
gave
a
suggestion
of
primness
to
a
face
that
displayed
nothing
else
.
The
Directors
did
not
know
whether
he
was
present
as
the
guest
,
the
adviser
or
the
ruler
of
the
Board
;
they
preferred
not
to
find
out
.
"
It
seems
to
me
,
"
said
the
chairman
,
"
that
the
top
problem
for
us
to
consider
is
the
fact
that
the
track
of
our
main
line
appears
to
be
in
a
deplorable
,
not
to
say
critical
,
condition
—
"
He
paused
,
then
added
cautiously
,
"
—
while
the
only
good
rail
we
own
is
that
of
the
John
Galt
—
I
mean
,
the
Rio
Norte
—
Line
.
"
