. I see that the next Challenge is coming up, so hopefully this will help get some creative juices flowing somewhere along the way.------------------------------
Biggles got out of bed, donned his dressing gown, walked out of his room, and found Algy sitting at his dining table munching on a slice of toast whilst one-handedly reading the morning paper. This was such a common occurrence by now that Biggles merely nodded a greeting as he took his customary place and had his first cup of tea.
Thus fortified, he was then able to turn his attention to other matters. “Anything interesting in the paper?” he inquired.
Algy grunted. “Nothing to speak of. I’d have thought you’d be more interested in that package of yours anyway.”
“What package?” Biggles glanced around the table and for the first time noticed the small brown paper package by his plate, perched precariously on a small pile of letters and bills. “What’s this?”
Algy shrugged. “It was here when I arrived. Mrs Symes must have brought it up.”
Biggles picked up the package in one hand and weighed it tentatively. “It’s quite heavy,” he remarked. “A promising start.”
Algy grinned. “Perhaps it’s a paperweight.”
“There isn’t a return address.”
“No, but there’s a French stamp, which makes it interesting.”
Biggles raised his eyebrows. “Done some Sherlock work with my mail, have you?”
“Not as such. It was rather hard to miss, seeing as how I’ve been staring it for the past ten minutes or so while I waited for you to wake up. Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I thought I’d try to guess what was in it first.”
“In which case we’re likely to be here all day.”
Biggles glared at him. “Don’t try to be smart; it doesn’t suit you.”
Algy grinned, unruffled by Biggles’ bad temper. “Sorry.”
Biggles took up the letter opener and carefully slit the paper on the package. Exercising the same care, he peeled the paper away from a small white box, and then, with irritating caution, he folded the paper packaging and put it back neatly on the pile of letters and bills before turning his attention to the box.
He opened the box and peered inside. His eyebrows went up.
“What is it?” asked Algy, who had been observing the little scene with mounting impatience for the past two or three minutes.
In answer, Biggles tipped the contents of the box out onto the table. It was a gold pocket watch inside a beautifully engraven watch case encrusted with sparkling jewels.
Algy whistled. “That’s set someone back a few quid,” he remarked.
Biggles took out the watch and examined it, frowning, before putting it back on the table and looking again into the box that had housed it. “There doesn’t seem to be a note,” he said, puzzled.
“Who’d spend that much money on you and not even bother to tell you?” asked Algy, incredulously. “Are you sure it’s for you?” he added, suspiciously. “Maybe it’s for the daughter of that banker chap who lives upstairs.”
“Who on earth would send a pocket watch to someone they were seeing?” asked Biggles. “Surely chocolate and flowers are better gifts for that purpose.”
Algy grinned. “I bow to your superior knowledge of such matters.”
“Oh, shut up, Algy. Anyway, it’s not even a new watch. Look.” He turned the watch over so that his friend could see the small letters carved into the back. “Can you make that out?”
Algy picked up the watch and squinted at it. “Sulanders—I expect that’s the maker’s name. And underneath that, 1880, T, or it could be a J, Hollingsdale.”
“Hollingsdale! Are you sure?”
“Yes. I think so. Why? Do you know anyone of that name?”
“I used to, ages ago. There was a chap named Hollingsdale in 266, before your time. He was posted to another squadron a few weeks before you arrived, and then they sent him off to the Middle East. I don’t think you ever met him. Nice chap. I always wondered what happened to him.”
“Did his name begin with a T or a J?”
“No. I think it was Royce. We called him Rory. In any case, he wouldn’t even have been born in 1880. He was a just few months younger than me.”
“Sounds like a wash-out then.”
“Yes.” Biggles thoughtfully drank some more tea as Algy continued to examine the watch.
“It’s quite good quality. Worth several thousand pounds, at a guess. Look at that craftsmanship! This would have been worth a small fortune even back in those days.”
“Have you ever heard of a watchmaker called Sulanders?”
“No, but Father might. I’ll ask him if you like.”
“Yes…” Biggles sipped some more tea and then lit a cigarette. “Yes, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“I should have known you’d get a rush of blood to the head,” sneered Algy. “All right, all right, you needn’t look at me like that. I’m just as curious as you are. I’ll have a word with Father.”
Biggles turned the watch over and over in his hands. “Yes. You should talk to them. In the meantime, I think I might do some investigating on my own,” he said softly.
I hope it's only auto-correct and not some strange nickname I've acquired in my absence... 
Hopefully I can figure something out. If not, I'm moving the site. I want to keep my Algy stories!! 
