gham.
Can't think what Tom's about to allow it."

"He'd be a good match for her, eh?" asked Fred.

"I'm none so sure about that. What do you say, Sam?" asked Abel.

"I don't know much about the man. Jane's a very pretty girl; she's
quite good enough for him," said Sam.

"I wish I could fathom him," said Abel. "He's mysterious; them roads
and maps is all a blind, I feel sure."

"What makes you think so?" asked Sam.

"Nothing in particular. He keeps on tracing and tracking, and marking
out spots in red ink, but I can't make head or tail of 'em," said Abel.

"Leaves them about, does he?" asked the trainer.

"Sometimes."

"There can't be much harm in what he's doing," said Fred.

Abel shook his head doubtfully.

"If he hadn't been here before the war began I'd have him put down as a
spy--I'm not quite sure he isn't."

"Spying what?" asked Sam.

"The lay of the land," replied Abel.

"What for? How will that help? You don't think the Germans will come
inside England?" laughed Fred.

"Not by land. They may come overhead and do some damage. What about
these Zepplins they've been building for a long time?" said Abel.

The trainer laughed; so did Sam Kerridge.

"You can laugh," said Abel, "but it's my belief they'll do some damage
with 'em before long."

"And you imagine Meason is planning out routes for them--is that it?"
asked the trainer.

"Something of the sort. Wouldn't put it past him," said Abel.

"I can't agree with you. If he were doing that he wouldn't leave his
work about," said Sam.

"He leaves about what he likes. I'll bet he has some things he would
not like to be seen," said Abel.

"It's a dangerous thing to be a spy," said Sam; "and I don't think he
looks like one. He'd have no time for courting if he'd a job like
that."

"For two pins I'd give information against him," said Abel. "If I get
half a chance, and enough evidence to go on I'll do it."

"It is a serious charge to make," said Sam, and the trainer agreed.

As they walked home they continued the conversation, and Sam gave Fred
to understand there was something suspicious about Carl Meason's
movements.

"But it doesn't look much like spying. He's after Jane Thrush and
means matrimony--he'd have no time on his hands for that," said Sam.

Carl Meason left the Inn and walked to the keeper's cottage. He saw
him leave, gun under arm, and as he wanted the coast clear it suited
his purpose. Jane opened the door w