The man in black got up from his chair and knocked out his pipe on a heel—or rather, where a heel should have been, for it was now evident for the first time that he had black hooves instead of feet.
The wad of sulphur fell to the boards and smoked and stank.
"He was right, you know," he said. "The battle was in yourselves. And I suppose I've lost. I seem to be losing more and more these days ... though I'm by no means through. I suppose if I put up another bell, you'll just take it down." He sighed and stretched his long black-clad arms wide, as the young man had done. "Well, it's been diverting. I think I will put up another bell—just for the Hell of it."
He went down the steps, across the yard, into the outhouse.
An enormous cowbell appeared on the roof—a prince of cowbells, a cowbell fit for the neck of Babe, the giant blue ox of Paul Bunyan. From it hung an inch-thick chain.
The chain yanked down, the cowbell went BLONGLE, BLONGLE, BLOK, BLOK, BLOK!—and Charley's plan which the young man had arranged before leaving the confines of the outhouse became evident.
There was a loud flushing sound. A herculean flush. The walls collapsed inward with a giant roar and an enormous swoosh and a gargantuan gurgle. A moment later there was only a deep hole in the ground where the outhouse had stood. And then the sides of the hole crumbled in to form a shallow pit.
Timelessness ended.
Luke scratched his head and stared from Sam over to Charley. "Did you two dream the same thing I did?" his voice was awed.
Sam pointed over to where the pit made a raw scar in the ground. "Weren't no dream. Or if it was, we're still asleep."