"This is a simple little machine," he explained, as be pasted
together the torn bits of the letter which he had fished out of
the scrap-basket, "which detectives use in studying forgeries. I
don't know that it has a name, although it might be called a
'rayograph.' You see, all you have to do is to lay the thing you
wish to study flat here, and the system of mirrors and lenses
reflects it and enlarges it on a sheet."
He had lowered a rolled-up sheet of white at the opposite end of
the room, and there, in huge characters, stood forth plainly the
writing of the note.
"This letter," he resumed, studying the enlargement carefully, "is
likely to prove crucial. It's very queer. Collins says he didn't
write it, and if he did he surely is a wonder at disguising his
hand. I doubt if any one could disguise what the rayograph shows.
Now, for instance, this is very important. Do you see how those
strokes of the long letters are--well, wobbly? You'd never see
that in the original, but when it is enlarged you see how plainly
visible the tremors of the hand become? Try as you may, you can't
conceal them.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77