Атлант расправил плечи
The Moratorium on Brains
"Wecan’tsendatrainintothetunnelwithacoal-burningengine."
DaveMitchum’seyesgrewsullen:heknewthatthiswastheonethoughtonalltheirminds;hewishedBrenthadnotnamedit.
"Well,wheredowegetaDiesel?"heaskedangrily.
"Wedon’t,"saidtheroadforeman.
"Butwecan’tkeeptheCometwaitingonasidingallnight!"
"Lookslikewe’llhaveto,"saidthetrainmaster."What’stheuseoftalkingaboutit,Dave?YouknowthatthereisnoDieselanywhereonthedivision."
"ButChristAlmighty,howdotheyexpectustomovetrainswithoutengines?"
"MissTaggartdidn’t,"saidtheroadforeman."Mr.Loceydoes."
"Bill,"askedMitchum,inthetoneofpleadingforafavor,"isn’tthereanythingtranscontinentalthat’sduetonight,withanysortofaDiesel?"
"Thefirstonetocome,"saidBillBrentimplacably,"willbeNumber236,thefastfreightfromSanFrancisco,whichisdueatWinstonatseven-eighteenA.M."Headded,"That’stheDieselclosesttousatthismoment.I’vechecked."
"WhatabouttheArmySpecial?"
"Betternotthinkaboutit,Dave.Thatonehassuperiorityovereverythingontheline,includingtheComet,byorderoftheArmy.
They’rerunninglateasitis—journalboxescaughtfiretwice.
