Explore "The Moving Finger" by Natalie Sumner Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE moonlight penetrated but feebly through the one small opening which did duty for a window of the lean-to, and its interior was a mass of shadows. Suddenly that point of light was obliterated as a dark cloth was pulled across the opening. There was a prolonged wait before the same fingers switched on an electric lamp supplied with current from a powerful dry battery, but the light was so arranged that it fell directly upon a table on which stood a photographer's outfit. A man, his face in shadow from a huge green eye-shade which he wore low on his brow, removed his hand from the electric switch. Taking up a piece of bond paper he felt its texture, and holding it up to the light he examined with minute attention the red and blue silk fiber running through the paper.
Laying down the paper he took out his wallet and drew out some money, and holding the spurious bill and the genuine bank note against the light he compared them closely, then a smile of triumph crossed his tightly compressed lips. It was next to impossible to distinguish between the two notes. Greatly elated, he straightened his weary back and looked about his workshop.