Атлант расправил плечи

           ThatMortgageCompanywasasortofnoisyoutfitthatdidalotofadvertisingabouteasycredit.MarkYontswastheheadofit.Nobodyknewwherehecamefromandnobodyknowswherehe’sgonetonow,butwhattheydiscovered,themorningafterThePeople’sMortgageCompanycollapsed,wasthatMarkYontshadsoldtheTwentiethCenturyMotorfactorytoabunchofsuckersfromSouthDakota,andthathe’dalsogivenitascollateralforaloanfromabankinIllinois.Andwhentheytookalookatthefactory,theydiscoveredthathe’dmovedallthemachineryoutandsolditpiecemeal,Godonlyknowswhereandtowhom.Soitseemslikeeverybodyownstheplace—andnobody.That’showitstandsnow—theSouthDakotansandthebankandtheattorneyforthecreditorsofThePeople’sMortgageCompanyallsuingoneanother,allclaimingthisfactory,andnobodyhavingtherighttomoveawheelinit,exceptthatthere’snowheelslefttomove."

           "DidMarkYontsoperatethefactorybeforehesoldit?"

           "Lord,no,ma’am!Hewasn’tthekindthateveroperatesanything.

           Hedidn’twanttomakemoney,onlytogetit.Guesshegotit,too—morethananyonecouldhavemadeoutofthatfactory."

           Hewonderedwhytheblond,hard-facedman,whosatwiththewomaninfrontofhisdesk,lookedgrimlyoutthewindowattheircar,atalargeobjectwrappedincanvas,ropedtightlyundertheraisedcoverofthecar’sluggagecompartment.