The young man nodded somberly. "I have been waiting for you to make that observation, human. It is true. Evil has only to _be_ ... has only to _exist_ for its work to be half done. It is a pit; you have only to fall into it. While to be good, you must exert yourself to climb _out_ of the pit." He looked sadly at the smirking man in black. "He walks confidently, for he requires no more than your acceptance of him, your tolerance, your passivity, your apathy. How can such a dynamic imbalance threaten him?... He must only _be_ to be strong; you must _act_ to make him weak." The young man got up and stretched his arms. He looked upward at the sky again, and seemed to be listening. He shrugged a little. "It has been pointed out to me," he said, "that I have demonstrated sufficiently--now there are other matters to be attended to. I will destroy the bell once again ... but mark these words well, humans: the Dark One will create another--and it, like all his creations, will be a potential for evil. Not a large evil, perhaps, in this case, nor an evil in itself by the simple fact of its existence--rather his creations represent the potential of evil _within yourselves_. After he goes, I urge that you take down the bell and throw it away ... destroy it ... for as you have seen he is powerless to prevent that. If he creates another, cast it aside also. Keep doing so. The bell is but the symbol, the temptation: the conquest of evil can take place only in your own souls; you must _act_ in the face of that temptation. The battleground is not this town, nor this yard, nor that structure, but in _yourselves_. In you is the pit; in you must be the strength and will to escape it. Do you understand?" Three nods. * * * * * The young man looked into their minds for the last time, to assure himself of their purity. And in Charley Mason's mind he saw a tiny, half-hidden thought that struck him so forcibly that he almost smiled. Deep in Charley's mind, beneath all his awe and wonder at the present situation, almost on a subconscious level, Charley's sense of humor was still working--the sense of humor that had come up with the cowbell joke in the first place. Now, in Charley's mind, was a solution for the present difficulty. Not a solution, actually; for the realities of the problem were already solved--solved in the minds of the three old men and their firm resolve to do nothing ever again that would precipitate this kind of Heavenly and Satanic tug-of-war in the arena of their souls. But it would end this business of bell/no bell very nicely. And not inappropriately, the young man thought. He would arrange the situation just as Charley was mentally picturing it. And seeing what Charley had in mind finally brought a smile to the young man's face.