, 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 passed 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 paymen