Kerry by Grace Livingston Hill

Author:Grace Livingston Hill [KERRY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62416-505-4
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

When McNair saw that hand with an open knife steal around behind Kerry and cut the leather strap that went around her wrist he had both hands full, two bags of his own, a suitcase, and Kerry’s bag. He tried to shout but everybody else was shouting and the sound was snatched from his throat and ended in a weird croak.

It was impossible to identify the hand that snatched the bag in that dense crowd, but McNair instantly dropped the bags at Kerry’s side and dashed in the direction he had last seen the briefcase, frenzied for the girl whose fortune had been stolen from her, right before his eyes. It seemed incredible with all the care they had taken, and all they had come through, that it was really gone. Yet he hesitated not an instant, hopeless as his mission seemed to be.

Of course the hand that took that briefcase might have belonged to any common thief, but McNair was looking for a sleek, black head, wearing a steamer cap of tweed and a dark gray overcoat with a London cut.

He was curious of being thankful that the dock had a limited width, and there were no spaces at the side where thieves might disappear. He was also glad that he was tall and could look well over the heads of the crowd.

As he lunged on keeping a sharp lookout to right and left, he wondered whether Kerry had heard him. Would she have understood? Had she realized the loss of her briefcase yet herself ? Would she stand still and look after that baggage as he had told her in his haste, or would she walk on and leave it behind, not realizing that it was there? Well, it could not be helped. The manuscript was the main thing. It must be saved if everything else was lost.

And perhaps the thief would double on his tracks and return to the ship, or hide somewhere! McNair’s heart was pounding hard with the intensity of his excitement, and his breath was coming fast.

Then he sighted Dawson stalking ahead of him, not even running, carrying a brown briefcase under his arm nonchalantly just as if he had carried it all the days of his life.

He was several yards ahead and not looking back, but he was making good time. McNair wondered if he dared just walk up to Dawson and charge him with stealing a briefcase. What was he going to say when he overtook Dawson, provided Dawson did not manage some uncanny getaway before he reached him?

McNair was almost within hailing distance of Dawson when a couple of large trucks drove out to the wharf. The crowd parted to let them pass, and McNair barely got out of their way in time, but Dawson slipped out of sight behind them, and seemed to be nowhere when they were passed. However, McNair strode on. He must cover the distance to the street as fast as possible. Once there he could call a policeman.

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