* * * * *

Friday knew that his master at that moment was impotent to move, even to
shut his eyes, and, with a wild notion that he was being electrocuted,
he made a rash rush to destroy the device and free him. He learned
discretion when two ray-streaks pronged before him and forced him back;
and thereafter he was given the undivided attention of two guards.

From the outside, through the ball of color, Carse was a ghostlike
figure. Rigid and quivering, he sat in the chair and watched the
color-maelstrom. His face was contorted; his cheek muscles stood out
weltlike in his sweat-glistening skin; his eyes, which he could not
close, throbbed with agony. But yet he was conscious; yet he still could
will.

He defended his secret as best he could. Obviously this machine was
being used to force from his mind the knowledge of Eliot Leithgow's
whereabouts, and therefore he attempted to seal his mind. He fastened it
on something definite--on Iapetus, satellite of Saturn, and his ranch
there--and barred every other thought from his head. Mechanically he
repeated to himself: "Iapetus, Iapetus--my ranch on Iapetus--Iapetus,
Iapetus." Hundreds of times.... Hours.... Days....

The blinding waves of color rioted about him, submerged him, fatigued
him. He had a strong impulse to sleep, but he resisted it.

Days seemed to pass.... Years.... Eons. All this.... Continued without
change.... To the end of the world....

Dimly he knew that the color-storm was working on him; sensed danger
when a great drowsiness stole over him; but he fought it off, his brain
beating out hundreds of times more: "Iapetus, Iapetus--I have a ranch
there--Iapetus, Iapetus...."

Then came excruciating pain!

* * * * *

An electric shock suddenly speared him. His nerves seemed to curl up,
and for a second his mind was thoroughly disorganized before it again
took up the drone about Iapetus. Recovery ... dullness ... a kind of
peace--and again the shock leaped through him. It was followed by a
question from afar off:

"_Where is Eliot Leithgow?_"

Somehow the question meant a great deal and should not be answered....

Again the stab of agony. Again the voice:

"_Where is Eliot Leithgow?_"

Again the shock, and again the voice. Alternating, over and over. He
could brace himself against the shock, but the voice could in no way be
avoided. It was everywhere about him, over,