Watson's Case by F.C. Shaw

Author:F.C. Shaw
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Future House Publishing
Published: 2016-08-04T18:20:02+00:00

Auntie Ei’s Warning

Rollie woke with a start, and blinked around his room. Weak sunlight filtered through the window, and his roommates’ beds were empty—Eliot’s was nicely made and Rupert’s was an untidy heap of wrinkled bedding. Rollie sprang up and checked the clock on the desk.

“I’m late!”

He madly rummaged around in his suitcase for some clothes, got dressed, and raced down to the second floor. When he reached Ms. Yardsly’s closed classroom door, he paused to catch his breath. Trying hard to make no disturbance, he slipped inside and into his seat. Cecily raised her eyebrows in surprise, Eliot shook his head, and Ms. Yardsly immediately marched up to him. She looked as crisp as ever in a black skirt suit and orange tie. Her brown hair was pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head. She stood stiffly and inspected him with her icy gaze.

“You are tardy by seven minutes,” she told him, tapping her wrist watch. “I’ve already handed out today’s quiz. Unfortunately it’s too late for you to take it.” She spun on her heel and marched back to her desk.

Rollie held his head in his hands, thinking how this missed quiz would raise the headmaster’s attention about his poor studies yet again. He could not believe he had slept through the alarm, slept through his roommates waking, and slept in clear past nine o’clock. He knew the reason he had been so tired was his midnight escapade through the secret passage. Well, he had not been caught, but he had not entirely gotten away without consequences. He hoped Yardsly wouldn’t take him off the mole case.

“Time’s up, please pass your quizzes forward,” Ms. Yardsly barked. “We will continue with another Dancing Men message to decipher,” she drilled, tapping the blackboard. “You have one minute. Go!”

Dancing Men!

Rollie had almost forgotten the code in the Daily Telegraph. It was Monday, which according to Miss Gram meant keeping up on current events. He could not wait to get to her class and check if another code hid in the newspaper. Last time it had been one word: TUNNEL. Not much of a message, but—

Rollie gasped.

“Rollin E. Wilson, did you decode it?”

Rollie gulped.

“Rollin E. Wilson, answer me!”

“Sorry, Ms. Yardsly, I, uh, thought—”

“Did you decode it or not?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then return to your work and stop distracting others with oral outbursts.” Ms. Yardsly’s stern voice rang with authority, yet her expression softened as she noticed his furrowed brow and flushed cheeks. She marched over to him, bent down slightly, and whispered, “What’s troubling you, Rollin?”

“I just thought of something important. I’ll get back to work.”

“Good lad.” For a split second she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then turned on her heel and strode to the blackboard. “Time’s up, pair and share!”

Rollie barely heard another word spoken in class. The tunnel! He had not just stumbled upon someone’s silly doodling in a newspaper—he had stumbled upon an intentional message to someone in the school.

That someone had to be the mole. Because

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