'
Ken glanced back down the hill. Already the first of their pursuers were
in sight round the curve of the ravine, barely three hundred yards away.
They were jogging along quite steadily. It was clear that they felt
absolutely sure of their men--so sure that there was no need to hurry.
Kemp, conspicuous in his ugly German khaki, was shepherding them upwards.
Ken bit his lip. Inwardly he vowed that he would never be taken alive by
the ex-steward. He had a pretty shrewd idea of what his fate and Roy's
would be if they fell into Kemp's clutches.
'Come on, then,' he said desperately, and springing up over the shallow
bank of the ravine made a rush for the spot where the rocks seemed to be
thickest.
A shout from below told them that their manoeuvre was observed.
'They're spreading out,' said Roy, looking back over his shoulder.
'They're not shooting, anyhow,' answered Ken, as, bent double, he ran hard
alongside his companion.
'I suppose they think they've got us anyhow,' said Roy.
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