Watson's Case Read Online Free

father’s.
    â€œTell me about it.”
    â€œRight now? Shouldn’t I wait till supper?”
    â€œFact: supper is not the best time to share since everyone talks at once. Fact: I want to hear all about your week without any interruptions. Follow me.”
    Mr. Wilson led Rollie through the parlor to his personal office. He collapsed into a large leather chair and plopped his briefcase onto a cluttered desk. He pulled out a grip of papers. “Go ahead while I grade these math exams.” Being a math professor at the local Regents College kept him busy, even at home.
    Rollie climbed into a small cushioned armchair set in a corner of the cramped room. “Well, this week we learned a little about the Dancing Men cipher in Ms. Yardsly’s class.”
    â€œWhat’s that cipher?” Mr. Wilson asked as he used a red pen to mark the exams.
    â€œIt’s the cipher that Holmes cracked in the The Adventure of the Dancing Men. It looks like little stick figures in different poses. It’s one of the hardest codes and we have to memorize it this month.”
    â€œYou’ll get it. Go on.”
    â€œYesterday in Miss Hertz’s class we practiced collecting fingerprints off the doorknobs in the Academy. We rubbed this clear plastic paper on the print, and it copied right on. Mine was copying fine till Rupert came out of nowhere and bumped me.” Rollie added this last sentence with contempt.
    â€œYour roommate?”
    Rollie sighed. “I don’t like him very much.”
    â€œThat’s unusual. You don’t dislike people very often, and that’s a fact.”
    â€œHe’s really rude and is always breaking school rules.”
    â€œNo one’s unpleasant without a reason,” Mr. Wilson suggested, glancing at Rollie over his spectacles perched on his nose. “Maybe you need to get to know him better.”
    â€œI don’t really want to,” Rollie grumbled.
    At that moment, Mrs. Wilson burst into the office and grabbed Rollie in a tight hug. “My Rollie! When did you get home? Why did you not say hello?”
    â€œHow did you know I was home, Mum?”
    â€œI tripped over your suitcase in the hall,” she answered, holding his chin in her hand and raising her eyebrows.
    â€œSorry, Mum. I meant to unpack it.”
    â€œNo need, since it’s all dirty laundry. Supper is on the table.”
    Mr. Wilson’s facts about suppertime were valid, as were almost all his facts on life. The large family sat around the table, slurped their chicken noodle soup, and talked about their day. Of course nobody was fully heard, even with Mrs. Wilson serving as referee. During one exchange over a new fact his father had learned that day, Rollie’s eyes drifted over to the one empty chair at the table. Rollie was surprised to find how much he missed Auntie Ei lately. In her own way, insults aside, she had offered him a strange sort of moral support.
    â€œThe holiday rush is already here,” Edward, one of the oldest, said as he buttered a roll.
    â€œI hate the holidays,” Stewart, his twin brother, complained. “That’s the busiest time for errand boys.”
    â€œFact: tomorrow is October the first. The holidays are fast approaching, the first being Halloween,” Mr. Wilson declared, loosening his bow tie.
    The younger twin girls, Daphne and Lucille, clapped their hands and bounced in their seats. In unison they asked, “Can we have a Halloween party?”
    Mrs. Wilson eyed her husband. “We did promise to host one this year, Peter.”
    Mr. Wilson nodded curtly. “Then host it we shall, Eloise.”
    Rollie opened his mouth to talk, but his younger sisters cut him off with cheering.
    â€œCandy!”
    â€œCostumes!”
    â€œDon’t forget—” Rollie tried.
    â€œStew and I are in charge of porch decorations!” Edward decided.
    â€œGood idea, Ed!” Stewart agreed, socking his teen