"Or maybe he has his imps to carry out his orders—and they can't get to him now to get their usual briefing."
"Seen any imps around the house?" asked Joe.
She shook her head. "No. And even at night, when you have been at the office, I've not felt alarmed at the possibility of a prowler. I've had a sort of confidence that there wouldn't be any. I do believe it's true—the Devil is completely helpless to spread his evil influence outside our basement."
"I guess you're right," admitted Joe. "I've felt the same thing—that feeling of there being nothing to worry about. I even trust the other guy when he's coming up behind me on the road, not to try to pass on a hill or a curve. He doesn't even blow his horn when you miss the red light changing to green. Everything's sweetness and light."
"Well," said Pearl, "there's only one answer that I can see."
"What's that?"
"You'll just have to get another job. If you're not to get any more clients, you might as well quit being a private detective and look for something else to do."
"I'll have to," said Joe. "Our bank account won't last that long if we have to tap it each month for all our living expenses, that's sure! And we've got to keep up our payments on the mortgage, or we'll lose the house."
"We can't let that happen!" exclaimed Pearl. "If anybody ever goes down in that basement, the Devil will be loose again, and he'll be awful mad. The world would take a real beating...."
"I rather suspect he'd go hog-wild for a time," Joe agreed. "And he'd probably want to take it all out on us. Revenge would be his first thought."