"You're being very lucid," said Joe. "What exactly does he sound like now?" "A mouse," said Pearl. "A great big mouse. He's been squeaking all morning, and his claws keep clicking on the floor as though he were doing the St. Vitus Dance." Joe frowned. Then he went into the bedroom. When he came out, he had his gun. "What are you going to do?" asked Pearl in alarm. "Where's the hammer?" "In the kitchen in the knife drawer. Why?" "I'm going to go down and see if the Devil's still securely chained. Maybe he's working loose." "Be careful," she said. "If he has, he might be waiting for you to pull those nails out." "You grab the snow shovel, and stand behind me waiting. If he _is_ loose, close your eyes and swing. Don't look into his eyes under any circumstances." Pearl went into the broom closet and got the snow shovel. She stationed herself in readiness while Joe pulled the nails. They squeaked protestingly, and from down in the basement came an answering squeak. "That _does_ sound like a mouse," said Joe. "Been doing that all morning?" "Yes." "From the sound of it, he's still chained," said Joe. "Hear that chain rattle?" "Maybe he's just doing it to fool you. When you get close...." "I'm not going to get close enough for him to jump me," said Joe positively. "One move from him, and I'll come up these stairs like a shot. Then if he's following, you clout him as he comes past...." The door was open now and Joe began his exploration. He snapped on the basement light. The squeaking stopped instantly. He went slowly down the stairs. "He's still sitting beside the wall, and the chain's still tight," he said over his shoulder to Pearl. "I can see that from here." "Then don't go any closer," said Pearl worriedly. "Let well enough alone." "There's something...." Joe's voice trailed off. He went to the bottom of the stairs, looked at the Devil. The Devil was staring back at him, but there was no glimmer of intelligence or recognition in them. Nothing but a cowering alertness, an unblinking stare that looked almost like a trapped animal. Then the Devil squeaked. Joe jumped. Then he went pale. "You're not the Devil," he gasped. "You're...." There was no comment from the Devil. Nothing but another squeak, and this time the Devil scrabbled his claws about on the floor in a nervous chittering way. "You're ... _a mouse_!" yelled Joe. He lifted his gun and aimed between the Devil's eyes, then pulled the trigger. The gun roared in the confines of the basement, and the Devil slumped to the floor. Once or twice he kicked, then his mouth fell open, and he sagged into a limp heap. * * * * * "Joe!" screamed Pearl. "What did you do?" "I just killed a mouse," said Joe. His voice was shaking. "A mouse? With a gun. Are you crazy?" "Come on down and take a look," said Joe.