Watson's Case Read Online Free Page B

but he felt honored that a fourth-year student of such popularity would choose to be his friend. He relished befriending a real buddy like Wesley. When he was honest with himself, he admitted he rather liked the attention from this popular boy.
    He sat up and fished out the newspaper from his packed suitcase. Plopping onto the floor, he re-read her note, lingering on one sentence that stood out to him: Peruse the pages closely and with care, for you may find the map useful.
    He stared at the newspaper with its blaring headline: SHERLOCK HOLMES HELPS SOLVE MURDER CASE!
    â€œThat’s what I came over to take a look at,” Cecily voiced from his doorway. She joined him on the floor. “You forgot to call me this weekend.”
    â€œHmm?” Rollie was too engrossed in the newspaper.
    The two of them thumbed through the pages and skimmed the articles. They noticed how much the formatting had changed since the late 1800s. There were no margins, and an average page boasted six columns of very fine type. Photographs were not widely used back in 1894. Instead black and white sketches illustrated points of interest.
    Cecily giggled and pointed to a small advertisement for mustache wax that included several illustrations of handlebar and curled mustaches.
    â€œLook at this ad for a nifty new invention called the paper clip,” laughed Rollie. “I always wondered when paper clips first came out.”
    Cecily rolled her eyes with a smile. They had fun perusing the old newspaper, but did not find anything mysterious, and soon lost interest. They debated about how to spend their afternoon until Rollie glanced out his window again and got an idea.
    â€œLet’s go investigate Zilch’s house,” he said, rubbing away the black newspaper ink from his fingers. When he noticed Cecily’s hesitation, he quickly added, “Just the grounds. I doubt we can get in anyways. It’s all locked up.”
    Rollie and Cecily headed next door, stopping first on the front porch where a sign was posted with the following warning: NO TRESPASSING. Premises Under Scotland Yard Surveillance.
    â€œWhat do you think that means?” Cecily asked, stopping by the sign. She buttoned up her coat against the brisk autumn breeze.
    Rollie peered through a front window, and could barely see the parlor through the grime. “Maybe Scotland Yard comes out to check on the place every so often.”
    â€œMore often than that,” a gruff voice startled them. A bobby, dressed in his black uniform with brass buttons and dome-shaped hat, stood on the front walk. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his expression was stern. “I knows you can read.” He nodded at the sign. “So you knows ya shouldna be trespassing, eh?”
    â€œSo sorry, officer,” said Rollie as he scampered down the porch steps.
    Cecily was right behind him. “We were just—”
    â€œJust trespassin’, is wot you were doin’.” The bobby glared down at them. “I’ll letcha off this one time, right? But don’t let me catch ya here again.”
    Rollie and Cecily ran back next door to the Wilson Manor. Once back inside, they erupted into a fit of nervous laughter.
    â€œSometimes it’s hard being an eleven-year-old detective,” quipped Rollie.

The Return of MUS
    â€œI’m so excited to meet our new teacher!” Cecily squealed as she and Rollie bumped along in their hansom.
    It was a misty, gray Monday morning. The temperature was even cooler than last week. The shifting weather heralded autumn’s arrival. The horse-drawn cab meandered through the heavy London traffic towards Baker Street.
    â€œI sort of liked Headmaster as our teacher.” Rollie peered out the small window at the four-story red brick building they stopped beside.
    As they stepped out, the driver unloaded their weekly luggage. The two friends hastily pushed open the front doors and stepped into the cozy