It was almost Christmas and the end of the year for the students of St James
College. Professor Parkins was sitting in the staff room with a young
  lecturer in Archaeology, called Mr Disney. Mr Disney was a curious young
  man. He always asked a lot of questions. Professor Parkins was intelligent
     and shy. He was well-dressed and tidy. He preferred his books to the
                              company of other people.
      ‘Are you going anywhere for the holidays?’ the young man asked the
                                       Professor.
                    ‘I’m going to play golf,’ the professor replied.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Mr Disney. ‘There are some very nice places to
            play golf on the coast but it’s quite cold at this time of year.’
        ‘I’m going to Burnstow,’ said the professor. ‘It’s on the East coast.’
 ‘You should visit the ruins of the old church of the Knights Templar,’ began
 Mr Disney. ‘The ruins are at the north end of the beach, near the Globe Inn.
 At certain times of day the sea almost covers the beach so you can’t always
  see the church. It’s a round church.’ Mr Disney explained that the Knights
                         Templar often built round churches.
   ‘There are a lot of stories about the Knights Templar ,’ he said. ‘Of course,
 not all of them are true!’ The professor smiled. He knew Mr Disney believed
                               in lots of strange stories.
  ‘I’ll write to you,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you if I see anything interesting. I’m staying
    at the Globe Inn. Not many guest houses are open during the winter, but
the Globe Inn always stays open. I have a twin room. I don’t need two beds,
                  but I asked for a large room so I can take my books.’
 ‘If you have another bed, then maybe I can come. I was thinking of going to
                           visit the place myself,’ said his friend.
   ‘That’s very kind,’ said the professor. ‘But I’d prefer to go alone. I have a lot
                                         of work to do.’
 ‘I understand, professor. Of course, you must do your work. But remember
  – there are a lot of stories about ghosts in that part of the coast and it can
be very lonely at this time of year!’ He laughed. The professor did not think
                                        this was funny.
                    ‘I am a scientist,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’
The next day Professor Parkins arrived at the inn. He was very pleased with
his room. It had a large desk and there was enough space for all his books.
       It had a window with three sides. There were beautiful views from the
  window. The sea was only a few hundred metres from his room. The long
     beach continued for miles in both directions. He could see anchors, nets
and the colourful boats of the fishermen. Every few metres there were low
        walls made of wood to stop the sea from reaching the houses. In the
      distance, next to some small hills of grass, he could see the golf course.
There were not many guests in the Globe Inn, but the professor soon found
     another person interested in his favourite hobby. He was an old colonel
   with a big moustache and red cheeks. He knew a lot about some subjects
    and very little about others. He always spoke in the same loud voice. The
    colonel said that he was staying alone and that he was happy to play golf
                                      with the professor.
    Professor Parkins spent the next day with the colonel. He was so fixed on
their game of golf that it was soon late in the afternoon. They stopped for a
                                              rest.
    ‘I should return to the hotel,’ said the colonel. ‘Are you coming, professor?
                                        Dinner is at six.’
     ‘I’d like to take a walk along the beach first,’ Professor Parkins replied. ‘I’ll
                                      see you at dinner.’
    There was no-one else on the beach. The professor enjoyed
 the silence. A cold wind blew from the North. It was difficult to
walk against the wind. Suddenly, the professor’s foot hit a stone
 and he fell over between the sand and the tall grass. He stood
   up and looked around. In front of him he could see some old
                                    ruins.
     First, he walked around the ruins. Then he took a few steps
 back. The stones were in the form of a circle. He remembered
    Mr Disney’s story about the Knights Templar and the round
churches. In one corner, there was a large, high stone. It looked
    like the altar of a church. In the centre of the altar, he saw a
   stone cabinet filled with earth. He took a small knife from his
            pocket and started to remove the earth inside it.
   It was late now and the sun was low in the sky. The professor
      wanted to see inside the cabinet so he lit a match. He was
 unhappy to find the cabinet was empty. He lit another match.
 For a moment, he saw something. Then the wind blew out the
match. He put his hand inside the cabinet and he found a small
  object. It was long and made of metal. He took it and put it in
                                 his pocket.
  ‘I’ll look at it later,’ he thought, and he started walking towards
                                  the hotel.
         Once or twice he looked back towards the ruins. In the
  distance, he saw a tall black figure in the pale evening light. A
 man was walking along the beach in the same direction. Every
      time he looked back, the man was behind him. At first the
 figure was far from him but then he seemed to come closer. It
 seemed like he was trying to reach the professor. Did he know
       him? He thought for a moment of waiting for him but he
         decided this was not a good idea. It was now dark. The
           professor was alone and the man was a stranger.
‘He must be going the same way,’ he said to himself. He walked
           quickly towards the hotel. Then he started to run.
 ‘Well, Mr Holmes, two hundred pounds a year is
 very useful to me. So I asked Spaulding for more
  information. He showed me the advertisement
 and said, “I’ve heard that the club’s money came
from a rich American, Ezekiah Hopkins. He was a
 strange man with red hair. He died and left all of
his money to the Red-Headed League. The money
  is used to give easy jobs to men with red hair.”
 ‘“But thousands of men have red hair!” I said. “I
             can never get the job.”
   ‘“No, Mr Wilson,” said Spaulding. “The Red-
  Headed League gives jobs only to people from
London. Ezekiah Hopkins was born in London and
 he loved this city. Also, only men with bright red
 hair can get these jobs. The club doesn’t accept
 men with dark red hair or light red hair. You can
                 get the job easily!”’