did not care.

"Guess I'll go to the house," he would say as a lecture ended.

"That guy's an Alpha Kap," someone would say.

"You are shitting me, man," would be the reply.

One Saturday night, he was alone in the fraternity house. In staggered a very drunken Don Bruce. "Hey, asshole, where the hell is everyone?" he yelled at Basil.

"I don't know, Don," replied Basil, hoping the Bruce would turn around and leave the house.

Bruce became enraged. He rushed into the skinny boy and knocked him to the floor.

"You goddamn pussy. You call me Mr. Bruce!" he raged.

Basil looked up in horror as Bruce unzipped his trousers and pissed all over him. As he curled up into a ball and covered his head against the rancid stream, the short man yelled,while in school.

He looked at the others and imagined how he must have stood out in that group. He was still wearing his suit pants and white shirt as he stood among these self-assured successful men in their early thirties, gathered this summer night for some companionship and poker. He had that old feeling of being on the edge of the crowd. All of the stories and jokes were about events that he had no knowledge of. Some were old and some seemed to have been more recent. They laughed and drank and he laughed along with them.

"Keep on mixing those drinks and I'll be the one laughing while I take your money," he thought to himself.

Shortly after eight o'clock, Fanning looked around and boomed," Let's play some