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.