Julius and the Watchmaker Read Online Free PDF Page B

with no homework for one week at the very least. Please excuse Julius Caesar from lessons until Wednesday next.
    Your Humble Servant
    A. Higgins
    Julius perused his handy work. You could make a decent living as a forger if you put your mind to it, Higgins , he thought, while blowing the ink dry. He folded the letter carefully and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he sprinted up the stairs and into his room. He threw a spare shirt, some underwear, socks, a comb and a book on fly-fishing he had not yet finished into a carpetbag. When he came down, his grandfather was in the back parlour tapping his spectacles on the palm of his hand.
    â€˜What is all this, Julius Caesar? Running away to sea?’ he said, nodding at the bag.
    â€˜I forgot all about it, grandfather. I had to come home to pack. They’re all getting ready to leave.’
    â€˜Leave? Leave for where? What are you talking about?’
    â€˜The history field trip to Hadrian’s Wall.’
    â€˜What? But that’s in Scotland ,’ said Mr Higgins, as if that were objection enough.
    â€˜I know, that’s why we’ll be gone for a week.’
    â€˜A whole week? In Caledonia ? Are you out of your senses?’
    â€˜No, it’s all been arranged. Don’t you remember the note I gave you?’
    â€˜No, I don’t and I don’t remember paying for it either. I’d have remembered that.’
    â€˜There’s no charge, it’s been paid for by the Guild of Quality Butchers.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Yes, here, I’ll show you the note. I have it upstairs somewhere,’ said Julius, running back up the stairs. After rifling through his room for a minute he ran down again and thrust a sheet of paper into his grandfather’s hand.
    â€˜I’ll see you in a week, then,’ he said, grabbing the carpetbag and lunging for the door.
    By the time he had made it through the throng of customers, his grandfather had read the note.
    â€˜Hold up, Julius Caesar,’ called out Mr Higgins from the shop doorway. Julius stopped wrestling with the carpetbag and turned back. ‘What?’
    â€˜This note…it’s about last year’s Christmas pageant.’
    â€˜Is it?’ said Julius looking confused. ‘I must have given you the wrong one. There’s no time now. I’ll show it to you when I come back.’
    â€˜Oh, you will, will you?’
    â€˜Bye then,’ said Julius as he scurried down the street.
    â€˜Young Caesar.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The school is that way,’ said Mr Higgins, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
    â€˜So it is,’ said Julius. He ran back and hurried past his grandfather with what he hoped was a convincing smile fixed to his face.
    Once out of sight, Julius dropped the bag, and the smile, and collapsed against a wall to catch his breath. It was not a good idea to get too close to the school, which was only three streets away. Crimper and his minions could be scouring the borough for him at this very moment. They could murder him, toss him in the Thames and be back in time for the afternoon lessons. It was no use going back and confiding his difficulties with his grandfather. The last time he complained about being bullied, the old man had attempted to give him a boxing lesson.
    â€˜Give the fellow a good punch on the nose, Julius Caesar. That will sort him out,’ he had said, holding up his fists and ducking his head.
    Julius picked up his bag and ran east along Gresham Street. He would keep running in the opposite direction from the school until the afternoon lessons began.

    An hour later, Julius crept into the day yard. He pushed the forged letter under the headmaster’s door and sprinted back out into Milk Street. Phase two of the plan was complete. Now for phase three.
    Tired and sweating from all his running and worrying, Julius turned the corner into Warwick Lane. He dodged through the shoppers,