The boy blinked. "All the way?"

"Sure, all the way." Ray hesitated and the man reached over at the beast's bidding, unbuckled Ray's belt and unzipped his fly. "Take them off." Jim said over the howl of the beast.

"Man, this beer goes right through me," Jerry put in. He got up and the bathroom door closed behind him.

Jim also stood, followed shortly by Ray, and both removed their trousers, then returned to the bed. The boy lay back, his eyes half-closed, his arms at his sides. The beast howled hungrily, drowning out all other sounds. Jim, at the bidding of the beast, reached out. He didn't hear the bathroom door open, didn't see Jerry stealthily enter the room 'billy' in hand; but he felt the blow on his head. Luckily, it was a glancing blow that only momentarily stunned him. He rolled aside as Jerry flopped on the bed in a vain attempt to strike another blow. Jim scrambled to his feet dazedly and struggled with the youth while Ray waited for an opening. They fought in silence and Jim because of his superior size was able to stand them off though he'd lost his glasses in the struggle and blood from a cut on his head further obscured his vision. They parted and stood braced, the boys on one side of the room, Jim on the other.

"Get out of here before I call the police," Jim hissed.

"You won't call the police, you queer," Jerry spat back. "How would you explain us?"

"I'd tell them you broke in," the man said, "and they'd believe me. I've never been in trouble before." His voice, though trembling with rage and a shortness of breath, had a ring of truth and the boy's resolve wavered.

"Give us some money and we'll go," Jerry said. He still menaced with the 'billy', but the man stood firm.

"Go to hell!" he spat, hating them both. "You'll get no money from me." "Give us the beer then, mister," Ray put in. He'd pulled his jeans on during the stalemate.

"Take it and get out," the man snarled.

Ray scooped up the remaining six pack and the two boys backed out the door, then fled. Jim pulled his trousers on and, barefooted, ran into the night after the fleeing youths. He reached the sidewalk as they roared away.

"Queer!" Jerry yelled into the night.

Wearily, Jim leaned against the building. He trembled, as much from emotional as physical strain. Tears ran down his checks as he put his forchead against the rough brick of the house. "Scavengers," he sobbed. "Damned scavengers!" And within him the beast howled hungrily.

DER KREIS/LE CERCLE

Monthly magazine in German, a few pages in French, also in English. Liberally illustrated with photographs and drawings. Articles, stories, poetry. Oldest of homophile publications. $11, first class. 1953-57 volumes available at $8. Postbox 547, Fraumunster, Zurich 22, Switzerland.

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