The Amazing Airship Adventure by Derrick Belanger Page A

how is your detective work going these days?”
    â€œDr. Watson,” Mrs. MacDougall snapped at him, “must we talk about their cases at the dinner table? You know how I feel about them telling you about their adventures. I don’t want you writing down their stories.”
    Dr. Watson was known for publishing stories about Sherlock Holmes’s most famous cases. He always wanted to write down the mysteries that the MacDougall twins solved, but Mrs. MacDougall refused to let him. She did not want her children to be famous. She wanted them to have a normal life.
    â€œYou can’t blame me for trying,” Dr. Watson laughed, and he winked at the twins. He knew they wanted to tell their stories, but they respected their mother’s wishes.
    â€œYou still should bring the twins to my office next week,” Watson continued, changing the subject. “I haven’t checked up on them in nearly six months.”
    â€œOh, the kids are fine, Dr. Watson,” Mr. MacDougall explained. “Not even a skinned knee on Jimmy.”
    â€œIt is still wise to have them looked after by a doctor,” Sherlock Holmes said. “Sometimes small problems you don’t see turn out to be big problems later. This reminds me of the case of the Man with the Missing Right Hand.”
    â€œThey look fine to me,” Mrs. Hudson chimed in, interrupting the detective. She did not want to hear yet another retelling of a famous case.
    â€œI can’t get over how much the twins have grown,” Mrs. Hudson said to their parents. “I’ve watched them turn from babies into a fine young man and woman.” Mr. and Mrs. MacDougall grinned at the compliment.
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Hudson. Now, no more talk of detective work,” Mrs. MacDougall firmly stated, glaring directly at Holmes and Watson. “Let’s enjoy this fine dinner and talk about happy topics, no robbers tonight please.”
    Everyone nodded in agreement, although Jimmy frowned, wishing the conversation would be about robbers and crime. What is the point of eating dinner with Sherlock Holmes, he wondered, if I can’t talk to him about mysteries?
    The dinner conversation continued pleasantly until…
    â€œAAAHH!” came screams from the street.
    â€œWhat is it?” someone else yelled. Sherlock Holmes dashed to the window. Everyone followed him. They all crowded around, looking out at the skyline.
    â€œEmma, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Jimmy asked his sister.
    â€œYes, Jimmy, I..I see it too.”
    Floating above London was a strange, giant object. To Jimmy it looked like a giant flying silver barrel. It was the size of two busses put together, with great curved wings on its side, almost like someone put the barrel in the middle of an enormous boomerang. The flying object seemed to come straight out of space. It was slowly gliding over the buildings, causing shouts and cries from the streets of London below. Suddenly, the aircraft turned in the sky and swiftly swooped towards Baker Street.

    â€œGoodness, Holmes,” Dr. Watson said. “It is heading straight for the street below.”
    The detective motioned with his hand for his friend to stay quiet. He was observing everything, and he didn’t want to miss any details.
    A giant crowd had gathered in Baker Street as the aircraft floated towards them. Some hansom cabs [1] , a bus , and several people on horses stopped and joined the growing crowd, gazing up at the object. Some pointed, others talked. A few people fled as the object came towards them, blocking out the sun. Suddenly, the shiny silver barrel stopped right above the crowd. It hovered for a mere moment, then FLASH! A huge blinding light shot out from the bottom of the craft. Everyone screamed and scattered. The horses neighed and screeched, then bolted in opposite directions. Two hansom cabs flipped over as their horses bolted away from the blinding light. The bus flung out