"How much longer, sir?" Crosier yelled. "We can"t hold them much longer."
"Can you give me three minutes?"
"Aye, sir." Crosier was astride a different horse, so Selkirk guessed that the Turks had shot his own.
The guard was nowhere to be seen; either he was dead or had fled, but the guard of the first wagon lay in a crumpled heap. Selkirk searched his pockets, flinched at the bullet that thudded into the ground between his legs and hoped Black and his marksmen could keep the Turks busy. He heard the rattle of keys and hauled a bunch from a hook on the man"s belt. "Thank God."
Both Lewis guns were in action now, their sound strangely reassuring as a background to the sharper c***k of the Mausers and Lee-Enfields, but he ignored them and ran back to the second wagon. "Here," he threw the
