Beyond the house where their mock trial had taken place was a vineyard
surrounded by a stone wall. Against this they were posted while the firing
party was detailed.
Henkel, his bloodshot eyes aflame with ill-suppressed rage, stalked up to
them.
'I give you a last chance,' he said harshly to Ken. 'I have told the
others that you have certain information which I will take in exchange for
your lives. Give me your word that you will write that letter, and all
will be well.'
'You have had my answer,' said Ken quietly. 'Now go and watch us being
murdered.'
Henkel bit his lip savagely.
'Your blood is on your own heads,' he said hoarsely. 'I have given you
every chance.'
He stamped away, and as he did so took a handkerchief out of his pocket.
'When I drop this, fire,' he said curtly to the eight Turks who composed
the firing party.
'Good-bye, old chap,' said Ken to Roy.
'Oh, I don't know,' Roy answered. 'After all, we're going together.'
Ken hardly heard. He was still tortured with the feeling that it was
through him that Roy Horan and his father were to lose their lives.
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