"Romburg-Smith closed down today," Joe reported weariedly. "The army cancelled their jet motor contract. Twenty-two million dollars worth. All in all, the army's cancelled sixteen billion dollars worth of contracts in the last thirty days. The President's estimate of unemployment today is up to twenty-eight million. There were food riots in Indianapolis...." "Food _riots_!" exclaimed Pearl. "You mean fighting, violence?" "No, not exactly," admitted Joe. "The newspapers called it a riot, because they're desperate for news, these days, and anything at all that will give them an excuse for some sensational adjectives for the headlines, they'll jump on. As a matter of fact, it was just a mass-meeting to request federal aid held in the courthouse square. There were signs reading 'Give us jobs, or give us food.' All very orderly and politely. But I keep thinking that hunger is a very primitive instinct, and I keep thinking of the Devil downstairs, and what he'd have to say about it." "You _know_ what he'd say about it," said Pearl. "He'd suggest that they steal food." "Well," said Joe, "when they get hungry enough, what _will_ they do? It's just possible they won't need the Devil to suggest anything." "But that's impossible," said Pearl, wide-eyed. "The Devil's responsible for all such things. With him out of action, people would never think of crime." "Wouldn't they?" asked Joe. "Is it a crime to eat?" "No...." Pearl hesitated. "I guess it isn't. And I think if it got to the point where I couldn't put a meal on the table for Jimmy and Sally, I'd probably put a different interpretation on borrowing a few potatoes from old MacDonald's potato field." * * * * * "I wonder if the Devil's reputation is entirely deserved?" said Joe. "He's chained up in our basement, but the situation that's building up in the world is becoming explosive." "Maybe he's not as helpless as we think," ventured Pearl. "Maybe he _can_ control things mentally, even from down there in the basement?" Joe shook his head. "Why are you so sure?" asked Pearl. "Something he said to me down in the basement." "What was that?" "When he told me to go upstairs and go to bed--he mentioned something about not being able to do anything but good while he was down there." "Who, the Devil?" "No, me. He said I'd not be able to do much else, when I said maybe this thing could be turned to good, somehow. He seemed pretty certain that I didn't have much choice in the matter." "Well, then, what are you worried about?" "I'm worried because it has occurred to me that the Old Boy has always been an egotist. Maybe he's not the big-shot he thinks he is, controlling all the evil in the world. Maybe he hasn't got a monopoly, and never had." "I don't believe it," said Pearl. "The Bible says Satan is the author of all evil."