wondered who lived there, probably the girl and her
parents. He asked Abel about the place and found the head-keeper and
his daughter occupied it.

"Is that the pretty girl I sometimes see in the Park?" he asked.

"No doubt," said Abel: "that's Jane Thrush. She's lived there with her
father nearly all her life."

"Queer place for a young girl; it must be lonely," said Carl.

"She doesn't find it so. She'd rather live there than anywhere; and
she's quite safe, nobody would dare interfere with her. Tom's a
roughish customer; any slight or insult to his daughter would be
resented," said Abel, looking at him in a peculiar way.

A few days later Carl met Jane Thrush going toward Little Trent. He
bade her good-morning and she replied. Her tone was friendly. He made
advances which she did not resent and said, in answer to his question,
she had no objection to his walking with her to the village. Carl was
delighted; he was never short of conversation, and he was the man to
interest such a girl. He spoke with deference, explaining he was
staying at the Sherwood Inn and found it lonely. It was quite a treat
to have somebody to talk to, Abel Head was not very loquacious.

Jane laughed as she said:

"Abel can talk fast enough sometimes; you ought to hear him and Father,
they are never at a loss for something to say."

"I don't think I have met your father," he said.

"He's seldom out in the daytime; his duties are mostly at night. He's
Mr. Chesney's game-keeper."

"That's an important position I should think; there seems to be plenty
of game in Trent Park."

"There is when you know where to find it. Do you know Mr. Chesney?"

"I have not that pleasure. Of course you know him?"

"Very well; he is a nice man, so friendly. He gave me Jack," said Jane.

"Who's Jack?"

"My dog, a big black retriever; he's generally with me but I left him
at home to-day; there have been tramps about lately."

"Poachers?"

"Oh no, they are quite different, but Father can't bear the sight of
such men. He says they are useless vagabonds and will steal anything
they can lay their hands on."

Carl smiled.

"I wonder if he thinks I'm one of that sort?" he said.

"He knows you are not. Abel told him you are always very busy making
maps, that you are a surveyor."

"So he's talked me over with Abel?"

"Yes; I fancy they both wonder why you picked on Sherwood Inn to work
in."

"That's easily explained; because it's qu