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Updated: June 17, 2025
Also, Patsy Horan was angry with the world. He had got out of the wrong side of bed that morning, and nothing had gone right all day. Had his barkeepers been asked, they would have described his mental condition as a grouch. But Carter Watson did not know this. As he passed the little hallway, Patsy Horan's sullen eyes lighted on the magazine he carried under his arm.
There is no question of standing up and wielding the shovel as if one were digging a garden. Men must lie down and scratch and scrape until they get head cover, then gradually open up a narrow ditch into which they sink slowly. 'I didn't enlist as a blooming navvy, grunted Roy Horan, who had stuck by Ken and Dave. 'Phew, but it's hot as a North Island beach on Christmas Day!
A few nights after his return thither he sent for M. Horan, one of the physicians who had attended Josephine during her last illness. "So, Monsieur Horan," said he, "you did not leave the Empress during her malady?" "No, Sire." What was the cause of that malady?" "Uneasiness of mind . . . grief." "You believe that?" He then asked, "Was she long ill? Did she suffer much?"
Besides, if they find the pit empty they'll only put fresh men here, and all the work will be to do again. 'Let's tackle 'em then, said Roy Horan recklessly. 'Odds are too long, replied Ken. He paused a moment, and glanced round. 'I've an idea, he said swiftly. 'I believe we can fool them. Quick! Take the coats off the dead men, and put them on. Their fezzes, too.
"Politics is a dirty trade, isn't it, Judge?" he remarked. "Oh, yes, I see your hand, but I don't care to take it. The papers said I shook hands with Patsy Horan after the trial. You know I did not, but let me tell you that I'd a thousand times rather shake hands with him and his vile following of curs, than with you."
'Dave, will you come? said Ken. 'Will a terrier hunt rats? was Dave's answer. 'And I want Roy Horan, sergeant, if he's alive. He's a New Zealander. 'Pass the word for Horan, said the sergeant, and the whisper went rapidly down the long trench. 'Who'll be the fourth? Ken asked of Dave. 'Take Dick Norton. He's a Queensland ex-trooper.
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. 'Only an aeroplane, Ken, said Roy in a whisper. 'By Jove, though, it's one of our chaps.
The plain is occupied by the Spahis, the finest, smartest horsemen of the whole host; along the sea-front are ranged the topidjis, with their rows and rows of cannons. Other detachments of these gunners are distributed among the various hillocks. On the wings of the host are placed the Albanian cavalry, the Tartars, and the Druses of Horan.
However, here goes. He stooped as he spoke and took the officer by the shoulders. 'Catch hold of his legs, Roy, he said to Horan. 'No, Ken, as Carrington stepped forward, 'you've done your bit. Roy and I will tote your stout prisoner back. 'First, take off those Turkey carpets you're wearing, said Ken quickly. 'If you don't, it's our chaps will fill you with lead.
'We'll have to leave this chap behind. We'll all be shot as full of holes as a sieve if we try to carry him. 'Rats, Carrington! retorted Roy Horan. 'Go home without our prisoner? Never! Besides, the Turks won't shoot their own officer. Come on, Dave, he said, and before Ken could say another word the two were off as hard as they could go, carrying their heavy burden.
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