"Maybe you're right," said Joe. "And if you are, and he should get loose with the world in the potentially dangerous position it now occupies, all hell could break loose." "By the way," said Pearl. "The meter man is coming again tomorrow." "The meter man?" asked Joe blankly. "Yes. He'll want to read the meter...." Joe clapped his hand to his head. "It's in the basement!" he exclaimed. "How come he didn't ask to read it last month!" "I told him we were fumigating the basement for termites," said Pearl. "So he said he'd make our reading out for the same amount of power we used the month before. But what'll I tell him this time?" "Tell him we're fumigating again--that the first time didn't take! He can't go down into that basement!" "All right. But what'll I tell him the third time?" "That's a good question. But maybe by that time he won't need to go into the basement." "Why won't he?" "Because I haven't paid the bill for two months. One more and they'll cut us off at the pole." "Then you'd better not pay the bill," said Pearl. "Are you asking me to cheat the electric company?" asked Joe. Pearl looked startled. Then she smiled. "No. I'm asking you not to let the Devil have a chance to get loose. Certainly _that's_ not a crime." "From the Devil's view-point, maybe. But it isn't from mine. Anything as dangerous as he is, should be locked up. I don't think there is a jury in the world that would disagree with me in that respect." * * * * * The next day, impossible as it seemed, all hell did break loose. Joe Emerald was waiting in line with a hundred other men to check with the unemployment bureau. One of the men had a portable radio, and although he had it tuned so low that only he could hear it, his shout was something everybody could hear. "The President!" he choked. "Somebody's shot the President!" He turned up the volume, and for a few stunned moments Joe listened to the excited voice of the announcer blurting out a complete lack of details other than a variety of ways of expressing the single detail that he did have--that the President had been shot. "That's a crime!" he exclaimed, and the man next to him blinked. "What else?" he snorted. "What are you, a Democrat?" "Pearl!" exclaimed Joe. "She's let him loose!" The man beside him frowned. "A nut ..." he began, then sidled away. But now Joe whirled and ran from the building. There was only one thought in his mind. A crime had been committed, and it could only mean one thing--the Devil was loose! Within ten minutes he raced up the steps to his own front door and hurled it open. In the living room he almost ran into Pearl, who uttered a low cry of alarm. "Joe! What's wrong!" "The Devil!" shouted Joe. "He's loose!" "Why, Joe, whatever are you talking about. He's not loose. The door's nailed tight, just like it has been for two months. And besides, I've been hearing him down there all morning."