Julius and the Watchmaker Read Online Free Page B

swept out into the backyard.
    â€˜Well, go on, young Caesar, see the gentleman out,’ said Mr Higgins, squinting into the calling card.
    Out in the yard, Professor Fox was standing expectantly by the yard door. Julius lifted the key ring from the hook above the boot rack and went outside.
    â€˜I believe you may have something for me, young man,’ said the professor as Julius was about to put the key in the lock. Julius stopped.
    â€˜Me?’
    â€˜I am addressing Julius Caesar Higgins, am I not?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜A Tibetan fellow told me he gave you something earlier this evening. I believe it is addressed to me. You cannot mistake him. Looks a little like a sunburnt Chinaman, dresses all in orange.’
    Julius dropped the yard door key. What had he done with the note? He searched his pockets. There it was in his waistcoat pocket. Unfolding the piece of paper, he saw a small golden key. The paper was covered with strange symbols. It was not Greek, Chinese or Hebrew, he was sure of that. If it was indeed addressed to Professor Fox he had no way of knowing.
    â€˜I forgot all about it. There were so many strange things happening this evening,’ said Julius before he could stop himself. Drat . He bent down to retrieve the key to give himself time to think.
    â€˜What things may one ask?’ said the professor.
    â€˜Oh, nothing, just things, that’s all.’
    â€˜Did they have anything to do with a fellow by the name of Springheel, by any chance?’
    â€˜I don’t know what you mean, sir,’ said Julius, trying to force the key into the yard door lock.
    The professor lifted his pocketwatch from his waistcoat pocket and tried to read its face in the fading light. ‘Do you have the time?’ he said.
    Not again! ‘No sir. But it must be well past nine o’clock.’
    â€˜Time is slipping away,’ said the professor, fixing the boy with his blue-eyed stare. ‘Who knows what the morrow may bring the weary traveller?’
    â€˜Er…yes…I mean, no.’
    Julius opened the door. The professor stepped into the dark alley, turned and held out his hand. Julius’s eyes blinked a few times before he remembered that he still had the golden key and the piece of paper. He shoved them into the professor’s hand, hoping that would be the last of him.
    The professor tipped his hat. ‘Thank you, young man. A pleasure to have made your acquaintance.’ He strode away, swinging his cane and humming a tuneless tune. Julius watched him walk all the way to the end of the alleyway. There, by the light from a scullery window, he saw the professor stop beside the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man also wearing a top hat.
    Julius slammed the yard door and turned the key. If he’s going to vanish into thin air, as well, you don’t want to know, Higgins. Back inside, Mr Higgins handed Julius the calling card and hopped around in front of the fire, dancing a jig.
    Professor Algernon P. Fox
Nalanda University
c/o Post Office Box 132 Kensington
    â€˜Now that, my boy, was a real gentleman.’
    â€˜Yes, the white cravat gave it away.’
    â€˜That was a man of experience and breeding.’
    â€˜â€¦Who broke into our backyard.’
    â€˜I think I can safely say that Mr Harrison’s diary may well be the making of us,’ said Mr Higgins, ignoring Julius.
    â€˜You do?’
    â€˜I do. Think of it—two fellows appear in the space of one day. Both more interested than they would like to admit in a diary about watchmaking, of all things. And, one of them bears the name of a protagonist in that very diary, which was written a hundred years ago. All very intriguing, if you ask me. No, Julius Caesar, there is a lot more to this diary than meets the eye. We’ll keep the book under wraps. The longer they have to wait, the more they’ll pay, he-he.’
    Julius thought about the tall, broad-shouldered