The Rider in Khaki Part 16

"Thought you'd know who it was," he said smiling. "I'm off for a few days' tour, but I'll be back at the end of the week. Tell your father I shall be glad if he'll show me round on my return."

"Going away?" said Jane, rather surprised.

"Not for good. Should you be sorry if I were?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad. We seem to be on good terms," he answered.

"Why shouldn't we?"

"No reason at all; on the contrary, I like you. I hope you like me?"

"I do--that is, I think I do," said Jane.

"Not quite sure, eh?" he asked, still smiling.

She shook her head. She looked very charming in her homely dress, her cheeks glowing with health. She was not at all abashed; the self-confidence of innocence, purity of mind, protected her. At this moment Carl Meason was really in love with her; he wanted her badly.

It flashed across his mind that he might do worse than marry her; she would make an excellent wife, and not ask too many questions. His look puzzled her; it meant something she did not understand. She lowered her eyes.

"Jane," he said softly, "you are a wonderful girl; I believe I am desperately in love with you."

So it was this caused him to look at her strangely; she understood now.

She never doubted what he said; she raised her eyes, they met his.

"Love me?" she said quietly. "Why should you love me?"

"Because you are adorable, lovely, the best little woman in the world,"

he said.

She laughed merrily as she replied:

"Oh no, I'm not. Father says I have a temper."

"That's not true; you have a very lovable disposition."

"Yes, I think I have. I love lots of things; still that does not prevent one from having a bad temper."

"Jane?"

"Yes."

"Step on the car; let me have just one kiss," he spoke pleadingly.

"No, it would not be right; we are strangers."

"I hope not. I feel as though I were parting from an old and valued friend."

"I'll shake hands with you," she said.

He leaned over the side of the car and took her hand; he drew her toward him; she slipped away.

"Not yet," she said. "Someday, perhaps, when I know who and what you are."

"And if I prove desirable in every way, what then?" he asked eagerly.

"Who knows? You say you almost think you love me; perhaps, only perhaps, I may come to love you," she said.

He thought it not advisable to press her farther; he had made good headway, she was prepossessed in his favor, that was evident from her manner. He shook her hand again, then started the car; as he went round a bend in the road he turned and waved to her; she responded, then went inside and shut the gate. She sat down on a seat in the garden; the smile on her face betokened pleasant thoughts.

Carl Meason stopped the car at a well-known hotel facing the Market Place; he had been there before. From the orders he gave it appeared he had no intention of going on that day at any rate. He took his dispatch box to his room; he always carried it, never trusted it to anybody.

"You can bring my bag to my room at once," he said as he pa.s.sed through the hall and went upstairs. When the hall porter put it down he was about to unstrap it.

"Never mind that; I'll do it," said Carl, handing him a tip.

He locked the door and opened his case, taking out some letters and several newspaper cuttings, which he proceeded to read carefully.

"It's Valentine Braund right enough," he muttered. "What the deuce brings him to Trent Park? Buying a horse, that's one reason. Wonder if he heard I was at Little Trent? Don't see how he could as I'm not sailing under my own name. Better perhaps if I'd not given Carl, but it's far enough from Karl Shultz to be safe. He'd like to have me laid by the heels, but he has no evidence to go upon. I got out of that mess well. It was a blow up and no mistake; nearly a hundred killed, and double the number injured. It had to be done; it frightened him and a lot more; there's several men hate me like poison over that job.

They suffered while I got off free and had most of the money. Wonder if he recognized me? Don't think so; he'd never expect to come across me in such a place. Much better go away until the coast's clear.

He'll not stay at Trent Park long."

He placed the letters and papers in his bag again. More than once he had made up his mind to destroy them, but something stayed his hand; they were dangerous if discovered but this was not likely to happen.

His thoughts turned to a more pleasant subject--Jane Thrush. Utterly unscrupulous though he was, even Carl Meason, as he chose to style himself, had some hesitation in plotting her downfall. She fascinated him. The women who had come into his life were totally different from her; there wasn't a point of resemblance. It was her innocence, her pure country charms, held him spellbound. Many women had helped him in his nefarious designs; they fell easy victims to his blandishments and his payments. He found them useful; one woman in particular had proved invaluable in the case of the great explosion at the Valentine Steel Works. It was Mannie Kerrnon who actually carried out his designs. He had some of her letters in his case. There was no love between them, there had been none between them; she reaped her reward in money, which she much preferred to affections.

Mannie Kerrnon was an Irishwoman on the mother's side. Her father was a blackmailer, a despicable ruffian, in the pay of a notorious New York Inspector of Police. She suspected him of killing her mother and she hated him as a murderer. It was mainly because her father, Dirk Kerrnon, was employed at the Valentine Steel Works that she undertook to help Carl Meason in his nefarious plot. It was a sad disappointment when Dirk Kerrnon escaped with a few scratches; he never suspected his daughter's hand in the affair. He entered the steel works in order to spy on Valentine Braund. The Inspector had given him some useful hints to go upon, but Braund was a careful man and more than a match for half a dozen Kerrnons.

After the affair Mannie Kerrnon quarreled with Carl Meason over the money due to her. She was outwitted and, being the woman she was, she intended being revenged on him. So far she had not succeeded, nor had she any idea where he was, or what he was doing; and he had no intention of enlightening her if he could help it. He was safe as regards the great explosion at the steel works. She could not "split"

on him without compromising herself.

As Meason sat in his room at the hotel his mind went back to the old days in New York, when he was hand and glove with the biggest set of sharks in the city, and a pliable tool of Tammany when well paid for his nasty work. What little conscience--and most men have some stored away--he possessed revolted at his intentions toward Jane Thrush--not that they were entirely dishonorable, but he knew a man with such a past and present as his had no right to pollute the life of any bright, happy, innocent woman. To be troubled with scruples was new to him; he had sent innocent men to death without a tremor, had even seen men and women go to long terms of imprisonment through his instrumentality, and thought nothing of their misery; and here he was actually hesitating about sacrificing Jane Thrush on the altar of his desires. Marry her, he even went so far as to declare he would, and was astounded at his honest intentions; he actually laughed, but it was uneasily.

He went out, walked about; at night he turned into a music hall, but variety turns did not interest him; he could not raise a laugh and returned to the hotel by ten o'clock. Jane's face haunted him; no woman had ever so obsessed him. It made him angry that he, Carl Meason, should be caught in the toils, discover that a woman had a hold over him.

Gradually he pushed her into the background and thought over the work he had in hand. It was of great importance and dangerous. When war came he might be shot at any time if his doings were discovered. He was accustomed to dangers; many times had he risked his life; bad though he was, there was nothing cowardly about him. He had some contempt for death, although he dearly loved life. There are bad men who are brave, and such was he--brave, that is, in so far as he cared little for risks so long as he reaped rewards.

He pa.s.sed a restless night. When he sank into a troubled sleep he imagined he was laid by the heels and about to be shot suddenly. In some unaccountable way Jane rushed up as the soldiers were about to fire, with a reprieve. He awoke quivering with joyful excitement at being saved from sudden death. It gave him an appet.i.te for breakfast.

The _Nottingham Guardian_ was perused; from it he learned that Valentine Braund, the American steel magnate, had purchased Mr. Alan Chesney's famous horse, Mameluke, for thirty thousand pounds and his destination was New York. He was more interested in reading that Mr.

Braund had been Mr. Chesney's guest at Trent Park for a few days and was returning to London on Sat.u.r.day.

"That suits me," said Carl to himself. "I'll get back to Little Trent that day; I'll drop a note to surly Abel and advise him."

Before noon he motored to Derby; from there he went to Haddon Hall and Chatsworth. He was fond of beautiful scenery and Derbyshire pleased him. He was, however, more familiar with Norfolk and the coast towns; roads running from the coast interested him and he knew most of them from Hunstanton as far north as Scarborough. He was later to make sinister use of the knowledge.