Part 4 (1/2)
”Perhaps he will; he'll be a fighter, and it looks to me as though there'll be a burst up before long.”
”You think so?”
”Certain sure I do; there'll be no peace anywhere until the Germans are licked.”
Eve laughed.
”I understood we were better friends than ever with Germany,” she replied.
”Some folks will tell you that, but don't you believe them, Miss Berkeley. They're a nasty spying lot, I'd trust none of 'em,” said Abel.
”I hope you are wrong, war is a terrible thing,” she said.
”So it is in a way, but we've been asleep too long, it won't do us any harm to be roused up,” said Abel. ”There's a man staying at my place I have my doubts about,” he said mysteriously.
”What sort of doubts?” she asked.
”He goes by the name of Carl Meason, but he's a German, I'm sure of it, and he's a spy,” said Abel.
She looked surprised as she said:
”What would a German spy find to do in Little Trent?”
”That's more than I can tell; probably he's spying out the land.”
She laughed.
”What sort of a man is he?” she asked.
”Not a bad-looking chap, talks well, but there's something suspicious about him.
”Does he speak with a foreign accent?”
”No; speaks English as well as I do,” said Abel.
Eve smiled: Abel's English was at times a trifle weird.
”Then I'm sure he's not a German if he speaks as well as you, Abel,”
she said.
”Now you're chaffing me,” he replied.
”Not at all; I am sure you speak very well.”
”If he's not a German he's a spy of some sort I'm certain. He's always looking at maps, drawing plans, making notes and figuring up things.
It's my belief he's. .h.i.t on Little Trent by chance and came to my place because it's quiet and out of the way. There's something wrong with him; if he's not German he's in the pay of somebody connected with 'em.
I'd bet my last bob he's a spy of some sort, and I'll keep my eye on him,” said Abel.