The Masters of Atlantis by Charles Portis

that Golescu first looked for in a woman. June met his appraising gaze with her own.
    â€œI want these women out of here,” he said, and wheeled about and left.
    Popper turned up his hands. “My apologies. What more can I say? You see how it is. The man is loco. I know we must appear ridiculous to you, living here like this, like wild beasts in this Mato Grosso, but you get deeper and deeper into a hole and you don’t know quite how to get out. Anyway, our party pooper is gone and let’s say no more about him.”
    June said, “What about his soup?”
    â€œDon’t worry about him. He keeps coconut cookies in his room. I’ve seen them. You’ll never believe me when I tell you what he has on his wall up there. Diplomas? A favorite poem in a frame? Some bathing beauty? Not on your life. Give up? It’s a picture of his king.”
    â€œYou haven’t eaten anything, Austin.”
    â€œNothing? Are you sure?”
    â€œYou look gray. I’ll heat up those livers. It won’t take a minute.”
    â€œNo, no. To tell you the truth I’m a little queasy. Just a spoon or two of ice cream maybe.”
    He ate a bowl of snow ice cream and then pulled some blankets about his shoulders and curled up on the cot and fell asleep again, facing the wall.
    Twilight came early to Hogandale, when the sun dropped below the peak of Puerco Mountain. June lighted the kerosene lamp. Mrs. Mack announced that she had had quite enough of ranch life and was ready to go. June was about ready too, but outside it was growing dark and sleet was rattling against the windows. She knew nothing about the bus schedule and she had no intention of walking back up the hill unescorted. She tried to rouse Popper. The more she shook him, the more he contracted into a ball-like form, presenting a smaller and smaller surface to the attack.
    June took the lamp and boldly made her way through the bagweed and up the stairs. The banister glistened with hoarfrost. She found Golescu’s room and spoke to him through the locked door. He said nothing. She explained the situation, that Austin was in a deep sleep, out for the night apparently, and that she and her mother wished to return home. Could he not help them? There was a scrabbling movement within the room but there came no reply. Sobs and hysterics, she decided, would avail her nothing with this man, a tough foreigner of some kind, not likely to be moved by female tears. She stood there and considered how best to flush him. Cajolery? Money? Warm food?
    The door opened and the professor appeared before her with one hand casually at rest in a coat pocket. The cap was gone and in its place there sat an alpine hat. He had changed his work clothes too and was now wearing a belted woolen suit and dotted bow tie. The buzzard feather was in the breast pocket. He wore glasses with perfectly round black frames. General Tojo himself had no glasses that were any rounder.
    â€œHow would you like to go to the pictures with Golescu?” he said.
    Surprisingly enough, he knew when the buses ran, and he escorted the Macks all the way back to Rollo. They arrived in time to catch the last show at the Majestic. He knew his way about town and had in fact been to this theater two or three times before.
    Popper had told June that nothing would get the professor out of the house, but there was one thing and that was a Jeanette MacDonald movie. He seldom missed one. Cut off as he was from the world, he still managed to stay current on the coming attractions in Rollo by way of movie calendars that were delivered by hand each month over the entire county, even to the old Taggert house. When a new calendar came, he circled any notice of a film starring Miss MacDonald and laid his travel plans accordingly.
    On this night, of course, any picture would do. He had not had such a soft armful as June Mack at his side in a very long time, and the show itself and its featured players were a