My dear Jokai, that's absurd. As for
your singular indifference to the burning car--that's easy. You'd
stolen it. But why?"

He smiled slightly and picked up his flute. With infinite softness a
waltz danced lightly through the quiet room. To such a fanciful, eerie
piping might the ghost of a child have danced. Then without pause or
warning it swung dramatically into a stirring melody of power and
dignity.

The wretched man by the table buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"Ah!" said Carl softly. "So Monsieur has heard that tune before? That
in itself is illuminating."

With a leer Hunch entered and deposited a tray upon the table. Carl
poured himself some whiskey and pushed the decanter toward his guest
with a significant glance. Jokai of Vienna poured and drank with a
shudder of nausea.

"We've a new chessboard," said Carl. "It's most ingenious. Hunch
spent a large part of his valuable morning shopping for it. The board
and chessmen are metal and I myself have added one or two unique
improvements. Help yourself to some more whiskey--do."

"Monsieur," faltered Jokai desperately, "I--I can not."

"Hunch," said Carl softly. "His Nibs won't drink."

Instantly from the wired metal points of Jokai's chair a stinging
electric current swept fiendishly through his body. Last night it had
goaded him unspeakably. To-night, with every tortured nerve leaping,
it was unbearable. Shaking, he poured again and drank--great drops of
sweat starting out upon his forehead. Where the rope bound his ankles
the flesh was aching dully.

"Mercy!" he choked. "I--I can not bear it."

"There is a way to stop it!" reminded Carl curtly. "The ivory chessmen
for me, Hunch. And whenever he refuses to drink--start the current."

With the metal chessboard before him, Carl idly arranged his ivory men.
Jokai touched a metal pawn and shuddered violently. The metal board
was wired. Thenceforth every move in the game he must play with the
metal men would complete the circuit and send the biting needles
through his frame. It was delicately gauged, a nerve-racking
discomfort without definite pain, a thing to snap the dreadful tension
of a man's endurance at the end.

"Ah! Monsieur!" cried Jokai wildly. "It is inconceivable--"

"Play!" said Carl briefly. White and grim his guest obeyed.

In terrible silence they played the game through to the end.

"Let me pour you some more whiskey," insisted Carl with infern