'Drop that pistol, or I'll blow your head off,' he said curtly.
Kemp's lips parted in a snarl, showing his white teeth. For a moment it
looked as though he would shoot Roy and take his chances.
But his pluck was not quite equal to it, and the grim, determined look on
Ken's face daunted him. With a muttered oath, he dropped the pistol.
'And a very pretty toy, too!' said Roy, springing forward and picking it
up. 'A nice new automatic, Roy. We'll keep that as spoils of war.'
'Don't waste time over the pistol,' said Ken sharply. 'Collar the chap
himself. He'll be better worth bringing back than a cart load of pistols.'
In an instant Roy's great arms were round Kemp, and lifting him clean off
his feet he popped him down in front of Ken.
'Tie him,' said Ken.
'I am an officer,' said Kemp haughtily. 'I will not be bound like a common
criminal.'
'You were an English ship's steward when I last saw you,' Ken retorted.
'And engaged in the charming occupation of signalling out of the bathroom
port to an enemy submarine.
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