'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. He knew he was right, and yet—'
A sound like a maxim gun in the distance smote upon his ears. It grew louder every instant. All, even Henkel, glanced upwards.