Ken glanced across at Dave, and saw him kneeling on the chest of the third
Turk, his long fingers gripping the man's throat. Just beyond, Roy,
recovering slowly from the stunning effect of his own bomb, was scrambling
dazedly to his feet.

Farther off, he heard the sound of running feet. It was clear that the
sound of the two explosions had aroused the suspicions of some supporting
party. Reinforcements were coming up at the double.

If the gun was to be put out of service this would have to be done
quickly. Without a moment's delay he sprang over into the pit.

The place was a regular shambles. Ken was amazed at the ruin wrought by
the one small bomb. Three men lay dead in the bottom. One had his head
almost blown off. Fortunately, perhaps, Ken had no time to dwell on such
horrors. With all possible speed he got the remaining bomb out, and with a
handkerchief tied it to the breech of the quick-firer.

Then he lighted the fuse, and waiting only long enough to see that it was
burning properly, made a wild leap out of the pit.

'It's all right. I've fixed the gun. Come on, you chaps,' he said sharply
to the others.

The words were hardly out of his mouth before a flash of flame rose from
the pit and the loud report of the last bomb sent the echoes flying along
the cliffs. Fragments of the broken gun shot high into the air, the pieces
falling in every direction.