Explore "C. I. D" by Talbot Mundy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Not yet!"
There was a goatskin on a shelf of masonry. It was sewn like an enormous short sleeve. F.15 used it to cover the lantern, and then it was pitch dark except for the blood-colored glow on his knuckles where the bail just topped the goatskin. So it felt like following a dead man's hand into the morgue at midnight. Or a graveyard. Or a pit where paupers' corpses lie awaiting God's worms.