“O-o-o-o,” he drawled. “It’s not wound. I’ll have to wind it.” To his great disappointment, he found he could not move the winding button. Then he got out his pen-knife to open the watch case. However, try as he would, he could not find a trace of a slit in which to insert the knife.

“It’s made of solid gold,” the old man boasted and winked. “I’m not one of those people who give presents made of hollow gold.”

“Does that mean there’s nothing inside of it?” Volka asked with disappointment.

“Why, should there be anything inside?” the old Genie inquired anxiously. Volka unbuckled the strap in silence and returned the watch to Hottabych.

“All right, then, I’ll give you a watch that doesn’t have to have anything inside.”

Once again a gold watch appeared on Volka’s wrist, but now it was very small and flat. There was no glass on it and instead of hands there was a small vertical gold rod in the middle. The face was studded with the most exquisite emeralds set where the numbers should be.

“Never before did anyone, even the wealthiest of all sultans, have a hand sun watch!” the old man boasted again. “There were sun dials in city squares, in market places, in gardens and in yards. And they were all made of stone. But I just invented this one. It’s not bad, is it?”

It certainly was exciting to be the only owner of a sun watch in the whole world.

Volka grinned broadly, while the old man beamed.

“How do you tell the time on it?” Volka asked.

“Here’s how,” Hottabych said, taking hold of Volka’s hand gently. “Hold your arm straight out like this and the shadow cast by the little gold rod will fall on the right number.”

“But the sun has to be shining,” Volka said, looking with displeasure at a small cloud that just obscured it.