'And the man they are taking us before seems to be Kemp,' said Ken. 'Only
they call him Hartmann. It appears he was cute enough to suspect that we
had hidden ourselves somewhere last night, and these fellows were sent out
to look for us.'
'And I wish we had both gone over the cliff before they found us,' Roy
answered, gritting his teeth. The disgrace of the handcuffs was biting
deep into his soul. Ken had never seen him in such a mood before.
Ken himself was none too happy. It took all his pluck and philosophy to
keep going at all. He was aching in every bone, his mouth and throat were
parched, and his tongue like a dry stick in his mouth. The dust rose
around them in choking clouds, flies bit and stung, yet he could not lift
a hand to brush them from his face. What was hardest of all to bear were
the jeers and insults flung at them by their captors.
But they trudged on doggedly, refusing to pay the slightest attention to
the taunts or blows showered upon them, and in spite of everything, Ken
used his eyes to take in every feature of the country through which they
travelled.
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