The Rider in Khaki: A Novel

by Nat Gould

"Where's the harm?" he said to himself. "Jane's a clever girl, knows more than the ordinary, and she's good enough for any man. He seems sweet on her. No reason why he should not marry her. There's money, not a doubt or he couldn't sling fivers about like he does."

All the same he questioned Jane closely after her return from Nottingham; but she was reticent. Not given to talking much himself he did not pay so much notice to this as he might otherwise have done.

Carl Meason was a man to attract a girl like Jane Thrush. He could be agreeable when he chose; his face concealed his real feelings—it was a mask and effectually changed the man to outward appearances. Meason was making the mistake of his life. He was fast becoming infatuated with Jane Thrush, subordinating certain objects to her, spending time in her company. The work he had in hand brooked no interference. It was sufficiently dangerous; there must be no leakage. Not a hint or a whisper must get about or he would be in grave danger on both sides. His employers were ruthless, and the authorities in England would not be likely to spare even his life if they got wind of his purpose and how he was working.

Jane Thrush held him in the hollow of her hand did she but know it. At present she was too innocent to suspect his real nature and she never dreamed what he was about. She would not have understood his affairs had they been explained to her. Jane merely saw in him a well-to-do man, who talked to her with respect, and was evidently more than half in love with her. She was not conceited although she had a proper sense of her importance and good looks, which was fostered by her father.

During the drive to Nottingham and back Carl Meason made love to her in ardent fashion and she had not repulsed him although she was careful to keep him within bounds. One thing Tom Thrush had effectually taught his daughter and that was the perils to which pretty girls are exposed. He had made no bones about it, spoke out plainly, and Jane learned the lesson well.

"Her's got no mother," Tom said to himself, "and it's my place to warn her. She'd best know what's what and then she can't stumble with her eyes open," and in his rough way he saw farther than people who avoided responsibilities in this direction.

Jane was therefore well armed against the wiles of unprincipled men, although it had hitherto been her good fortune not to encounter any. There had been kisses and embraces and Jane accepted them without much enthusiasm or response. Carl Meason's lovemaking left her cold; somehow she hardly thought it real. She did not tell Tom of these embraces and he forebore to push inquiries. His occupation made him suspicious and watchful; he was the terror of poachers and evil-doers among the game, and had tracked many notorious men down. Although he loved money he surmised that Carl Meason's occasional fivers were not given for nothing, they were to smooth the way for Jane's favor.

If the man meant well by his daughter there was no harm done; if ill, then he would settle with him in a way that would astonish before any damage was done.

Carl Meason quickly discovered he would have to play straight with Jane Thrush, also her father, and for once in a way he was inclined to do this; it was after all the easiest to get what he wanted.

So far he had never given much thought to taking a wife, but when he considered everything, turning the pros and cons over, he came to the conclusion Jane Thrush was worth some sort of sacrifice. He would not surrender any of his liberty, once she was his he would mold her to his will; he fancied this would be easy—he was mistaken, as better men have been.