The Devil grinned. Joe almost dropped his gun. It was hardly a face adaptable to grinning. The resulting grimace was only recognizable as such with the aid of a sort of sixth sense. The intended humor came through, but the physical aspect was soul-shaking. "Ever hear of possession?" he asked. Joe stiffened, gripped his gun tighter. "Don't make a move!" he warned. "I won't need to," the Devil assured him. "I do it all with hypnotism. In a few minutes you will walk back up those stairs, just as you came down them, and tell your wife what she heard was only a cat, and that you put it out. She won't suspect that _you_ are still in the basement, temporarily occupying my body, while the man returning to the delights of his wedded chamber is a being truly capable of utilizing her particular talents to the greatest advantage. She may wonder at your sudden virility, but I believe she will be rather pleased, if not delighted." The Devil sniffed. "By the way, do you own a dog?" "Not now. Used to have a police dog, but my wife made me get rid of it--too savage with kids around, she said. I used to keep it chained down here." "Oh, excellent," said the Devil. "I see the chain now, fastened to the wall. Must have been a big devil. Ideal! A collar and all. Will be handy to see that you don't walk off with my body while I'm using yours." He turned his slant eyes on Joe's and stared. It was Joe's turn to grin. He did so crookedly. "Won't work," he said. "I'm not suggestible. Can't be hypnotized, in other words. Sorry to disappoint you." "I'm not disappointed," said the Devil. "Very interested! You are rather unusual." "So, what now with the possession business?" The Devil shrugged. "I'll have to resort to an old stand-by." "And what's that?" "Force. Tried and true, my most effective method. All through the ages I've used force. Great conquerors have done my work merely by force of arms. More lately I've preferred intrigue, cold war stuff, you know, but since you are from the old school, I'll just have to overpower you." The Devil advanced slowly, flexing his hairy arms and going into a crouch, almost ludicrously reminiscent of a boxer's stance. Deliberately Joe leveled his gun and pulled the trigger. The blast was deafening in the close confines of the basement, but the Devil didn't waver. He grinned his horrible grin once more and pointed to a flattened piece of lead on the floor. "Neat trick, don't you think?" he asked. "If I were vulnerable to bullets, I'd have been holed rather frequently. Even silver bullets, silly superstition, are of no avail. Put up your dukes, my friend. I'm going to slap you silly." * * * * * The door at the head of the stairs opened, and Pearl's voice rang through the basement. "Joe! Joe, are you all right!" "Don't come down!" yelled Joe. "I've got the Devil cornered down here."