the man in the back seat. The dome light of the car was on just long enough for Waller the see him clearly.

The man was immaculately groomed. He looked as if he had just walked out of a barbershop. He had jet-black hair glistening with oil and combed straight back. A large nose sat between a pair of black eyes that were as evil as anything that Waller had ever seen. His complexion was dark and his teeth very white.

Waller felt like he was in the presence of the devil.

This time, Marcello eschewed the ball diamond and continued on toward the football field. He settled on the fifty-yard stripe.

"Been promoted to the NFL," smiled Waller to himself.

"Waller, this is Mr. Del Mato," Manny said.

"Marcello says that you arealumni had to be taken. Sometimes the alum knew that his son was not AK material, but gifts like a new wing on the fraternity house, a new roof and so on would secure a spot in the pledge class.

In the fall that Waller had pledged, the brothers had a real problem on their hands. Myron Basil was coming through rush. Basil was a skinny, gangly kid. He was awkward and unpolished. His face was pocked with acne, he wore heavy, black framed glasses and had greasy hair that lay listless on his narrow skull. He dressed poorly, had no social skills and was non-athletic.

He was smart and his family had money. Under normal circumstances, Myron Basil would have no prayer at all of being rushed by any