Kerry by Grace Livingston Hill Page B

never live to see the book published. His great life work!
    Kerry brushed away a tear and went on with her intensive thinking.
    She knew all about that paragraph in all author’s contracts that bound the author with an oath that there was nothing in the manuscript libelous, or that could infringe on another author’s writings. She realized there might be ground for suit in such a matter if an article should appear before the book came out.
    Somehow she must get hold of that paper. If it was in the room it must be found. If it had been carried away carelessly when the room was cleaned, it must be found. If it had been stolen
it must be found!
But how to go about it. That was the thing!
    But the thought carried her still further. Even if she found the paper, she would never be able to erase its message from the mind of the man who had read it, if indeed he had taken it and read it! Oh this was dreadful! Actually descending to charge a fellow being with such an ugly crime! But what else could she think? Her father had warned her.
    However, whatever the outcome, this should be a lesson to her. She must put the rest of her precious manuscript where it could not be found, at least until she was positive that man had not somehow managed to enter her stateroom and taken that paper. Of course if he had entered it once he could do so again. She must not leave it unguarded, not for a single minute! Suppose it should all be stolen, notes and copy and all! Where would she be? And the world would lose the book her great father had written. All her father’s life and hard work would have gone for nothing! Another man would profit by it—if indeed his jealousy did not cause him to destroy it before it ever came to the light of day.
    But the more she thought about it the more she realized she could not just stay here in her room the rest of the trip. For one thing she would have to pay extra for her meals to be sent to her, and her store of money was already much reduced. When it was gone she would be absolutely penniless, with nothing left to pawn. No, she must conserve her money, and she must guard that book with her very life, but she must somehow manage to do it without letting anybody suspect that she had anything to guard.
    The first thing that she did was to carefully copy from the notes once more that seventy-fifth page with its changes, as exactly a duplicate of the lost page as it was possible to make.
    Then she set to work to gather the notes of the whole book, as far as she had completed it. They were fastened together by little clips but now she carefully removed the clips and sewed the sheets with thread, a few in a group. These she laid smoothly between the leaves of a magazine. Hunting out a tube of paste from among her working materials, she carefully gummed the margins of the magazine together, with the notes between the pages, removing every other page to make it less bulky, until all the notes were put away except the few which were left for changes in the last twenty pages. Those she would finish copying that afternoon, and then if anything happened, she would have all the notes safely in one magazine.
    But what about the manuscript itself ? Could she work the same scheme with it? Would it be too bulky for her to carry around with her in one of those pretty bags that all the women carried? The bags were for sale in the main cabin. She would buy one. Perhaps they were expensive, but a fancy bag could be carried even to the table, and slipped beneath her chair, or in her lap.
    Her fingers flew rapidly over her typewriter keys all that afternoon, and before it was time to dress for dinner she had copied all the changes, and was through with the last of the notes.
    It took only a few minutes to paste the remaining papers between the leaves of her magazine. The notes were ready to put away, and she decided to put them in the bottom of her trunk, under everything else. Nobody would think of looking into an old magazine