'
To run at all with tied hands is no easy matter. To make any sort of pace
over rough ground, in such condition, is well-nigh impossible. Yet Ken and
Roy, knowing absolutely that their lives depended on reaching that wood
before their disappearance was realised, did manage to run and to run
pretty fast.
Once more they heard the crashing explosion of a bomb, then suddenly the
sound of the plane grew louder until the engine rattled almost overhead.
Ken stopped and looked up. The plane was passing no more than two hundred
feet above them.
Over the edge of the fuselage a face appeared, a white dot framed in a
khaki flying hood. An arm was thrust out, something dropped from it. There
was a quick wave of a hand, then with the speed of a frightened wild duck,
the plane shot away, came round in a finely banked curve, and disappeared
in a south-easterly direction.
'Roy!' gasped Ken, breathless. 'Did you see that?'
'I saw him drop something--I saw it fall. There--there it is.'
Hurrying on for about fifty yards, he stooped swiftly and picked up
something small but heavy.
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