'Ken, I'd give a
lot to disappoint the dear Kemp.'
Up and up they went, bearing a little to the right because it was on that
side that the stones lay thickest. They were still both going strong, and
were, if anything, increasing the distance between themselves and their
pursuers. A little spark of hope began to dawn in Ken's breast. It seemed
just possible that they might still outrun the slower-going Turks, and
crossing the ridge, find shelter in the valley below. There was one point
in their favour. The sun was dropping low in the west. It would be dark in
little more than an hour.
Roy seemed to guess his thoughts.
'We'll do 'em down yet, Ken,' he said.
Almost as he spoke he pulled up short, and flung out his arm just in time
to stop Ken from plunging right over the sheer edge of a tremendous gorge
that gashed the face of the mountain like a slice from a giant's knife.
For an instant both stood breathing hard, staring down into the darksome
depths below. Then Ken turned to Roy.
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