A minute later, and they were in a deep hollow--almost a cave and
absolutely hidden from all inquisitive eyes.
Roy laughed softly as he dropped to a sitting position.
'Gosh, I'd love to see Kemp's face this minute,' he remarked in a low
voice. 'He'll be just about fit to tie.'
Ken did not answer. He had dropped down and sat with his back against the
river side of the cavity, breathing hard. His face was very white, and big
drops of perspiration beaded his forehead.
Roy glanced at him with some anxiety. Then he fumbled in the pocket of his
tunic and brought out a small leather-covered flask.
'I've carried this ever since I left home,' he said. 'I reckoned it would
come in useful some time. Take a sip of it.'
It was fine old Australian brandy, and although Ken took no more than a
mouthful the effects were immediate. A tinge of colour came back to his
cheeks, and his heart steadied at once.
'Proper stuff, eh?' smiled Roy, as Ken handed back the flask.
Ken held up his hand sharply.
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