Chapter 12
THE ROCKS for which Claverdon raced were part of some great fall from the hill above, and the track plainly swerved to avoid the worst of the fall. Just as he passed the first of the bigger rocks a second bullet splashed upon it, and he knew that he had retained his life by a second of time and no more. But for how long was another question. Before him ran, this spidery way among the rocks— little better than a goat-track, leading into the heart of the most desolate hills in the world; behind him were three men all armed, utterly unscrupulous where the life of an enemy was concerned, while he himself was without means of, defence, without food or a single one of the necessities of life in this wild region.
The facts of the situation were already registering themselves in his b
