up the gun itself
as well as the men with it.'

Bending double so as not to be seen, the two scurried up the parallel
gully until they reckoned that they must be on a level with the gun and
its crew.

'It's going to be a stalk now,' whispered Roy, and dropping on hands and
knees, crept cautiously over the side of the gully.

On the ridge he stopped.

'Hang the luck!' he muttered. 'They've gone a lot farther than I reckoned.
They're a couple of hundred yards away, and still moving. What's worse,
the two gullies bend away from one another, and there's no cover to speak
of.'

Ken crept up alongside, and took a look.

'It's a bit awkward,' he admitted. 'But they're taking it easy. We ought
to be able to make fair practice from here.'

Roy nodded.

'All right. You take the left-hand man. I'll try for the right.'

A couple of seconds pause, then the two rifles spoke at once. Ken's man
went down like a log, but Roy apparently missed his.

Roy gave an angry exclamation and took a rapid second shot.

'Hurrah--nailed him that time,' as he saw the man go over like a shot
rabbit.

The remaining Turk, seeing his companions down, turned and made a dead
bolt. Kemp, with a cry of rage which came plainly to their ears, rushed
after him, apparently with the idea of bringing him back.

Ken and Roy both loosed off at once, but without success, and next instant
their quarry was out of sight over the far ridge.

'Rotten luck! It was Kemp we wanted,' growled Roy.

'We want the gun worse,' Ken answered grimly.

Springing up, he dropped into the far gully and began to run towards the
gun.

'Watch out for Kemp,' sang out Roy, as he followed. 'He may be laying for
us just over the ridge.'

'I thought of that,' answered Ken. 'I'll slip across and have a look.'

Both crept together over the second ridge, but there was no sign of Kemp
or of the third Turk. They might have sunk into the ground for all that
could be seen of them.

'Now for the gun,' said Ken, as he dropped back into the gully.

They wasted no time at all in reaching it. Beside it lay the two Turks.
They were both quite dead.

'Pity we can't take the gun back with us,' said Ken regretfully.

'Why shouldn't we? I'll sling it on my back. It don't weigh more than
sixty pounds.'

Ken shook his head.

'It's too far, old chap. We're all of a mile from our own lines. No, I'll
take the breech block off, and if you can find a good-sized stone we'll
smash the r