Gunzi frowned. Supposing he learned something of advantage to Bela Kun! It was not unlikely that the Dictator might reward him. He leaned forward and whispered: "More drink, eh, friend?" His words had their effect. Wenzel raised his head and blinked. "Yes," he muttered, "if you pay." "I will pay," Gunzi agreed eagerly, and ordered wine. Slowly Wenzel raised himself to a sitting position, and drank. "Well, comrade, how would you rescue this traitor, Apor?" prompted the detective. "Easily. Suppose ... suppose, for instance, I were this--this White Knight. Would I wait longer than early to-morrow morning rescue Apor? No, comrade, for if I were the White Knight I should hear that to-morrow Apor--come before Korvin-Klein. There--therefore should I act even before the sun rises above the--the horizon. "To Parliament House I should go with a letter from Bela Kun himself, an order to release an unnamed prisoner." Wenzel chuckled, and looked cunningly up at Gunzi from the corners of his eyes. Unconsciously his hand wandered to his breast pocket and patted it caressingly. "What would the jailers say? 'What want you ... this prisoner?' I should tell them.... 'Bela Kun's business. Apor to be hanged elsewhere.... Allies might hear of it ... interfere.'" Gunzi smiled scornfully. "A fool scheme, comrade. The jailers would smell a rat. They would refuse to hand over the prisoner." Wenzel leered. "Yah! You take me for big fool! I am not that, no. I am all ... I ... I would be all prepared. Do I not know the jailer would be curious?..." Somehow the expression of his face changed, and Gunzi saw a look of suspicion cross the features of the other. "Why--why ask you all these questions? What does it matter to you?" His eyes seemed brighter, less bleary. "Nothing, nothing at all, comrade." Gunzi endeavoured to appease the other: "You will drink again?" The detective dreaded that the symptoms of the drunken man might change. At present he was docile; just stupid and sleepy. If he should become ferocious, should the spirit of battle be aroused within him ... Gunzi had seen many a drunken scrimmage in his time, and with a sinking heart realized that the other man's temper was slowly rising. Quickly he ordered the drinks. Wenzel observed the bottle of wine set before him, and wavered. He stretched out a hand to grasp it, and Gunzi sighed with relief. The next moment Wenzel rose to his feet and towered above Gunzi. He seized the bottle and crashed it down on the table, where it shivered to pieces, the wine spurting in streams on to the floor. "You--you spy!" In a thick, unsteady voice Wenzel accused the detective. "I will not talk to you. Perhaps I will kill you!"