The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes (13 page)

“I have no accounts in this country,” said Nancy, “so naturally I have no checks. The guilty person perhaps only resembles me slightly.”

“On the contrary,” Buchanan said brusquely, “we have an accurate description of the young woman and it fits you. Also, several people have identified the photograph on the magazine cover as being that of the person who cheated them.”

Nancy was stunned. As she was trying to figure out what to say next, Buchanan told the girls he had orders for none of them to leave the house until they had permission from the police office.

Lady Douglas spoke for the first time. “If I say I will take full responsibility for Miss Drew and her friends, will that satisfy your superintendent?”

Nancy realized that the situation had reached a ticklish stage. Buchanan obviously did not wish to risk incurring the displeasure of Lady Douglas. On the other hand, he had his duty to perform. The young sleuth had a sudden inspiration—she would try to reach her father on the telephone and see if he could settle the matter!

She put the question to the two inspectors and they agreed. Fortunately, Nancy was able to locate the lawyer in his Edinburgh hotel room. When he heard the story, Mr. Drew became angry and insisted upon talking to one of the inspectors.

Buchanan came to the phone, and after a few minutes’ conversation with the lawyer he hung up and in turn telephoned his superior. Nancy rejoined the others in the drawing room.

Finally Buchanan returned and announced, “Mr. Drew also has offered to take full responsibility for his daughter’s appearance in court if required. For this reason, you young ladies will not have to stay on the premises.”

“Thank you,” said Nancy. “I’m going to try tracking down the person who’s using my name on worthless checks!” She thought she had a couple of good leads, but did not divulge these to the inspectors.

Nancy did tell them, however, about the sheep-stealing incident at Mrs. Drummond’s and of her suspicion that the croft in the glen might be a hideout of one of the sheep thieves. “Yesterday I saw a flock there, but every animal was gone early this morning. If you go to the croft, you will find my name on a piece of paper. It was left by someone who obtained my autograph in the United States.”

The two officers looked at Nancy in astonishment. She thought she detected a more conciliatory expression in Buchanan’s eyes. Nancy added, “You will find the autograph under a Gaelic-English dictionary.”

The inspectors went off, saying the glen would be investigated at once. After luncheon Nancy telephoned the police office to find out if there were any news yet.

“Yes, Miss Drew. Everything had been removed from the croft but the furniture.”

Nancy’s heart sank. Another good lead had ended in failure!

“What about the sheep?” she asked. “Did you learn whether or not they had been stolen?”

“We did. A farmer has reported about fifty missing. He said they vanished like the little people of Fairy Bridge.”

When Nancy returned to the other girls, she reported the latest news, then asked Fiona, “What did the man mean by the little people of Fairy Bridge?”

The girl from Skye gave Nancy a whimsical look. “There is a legend that long ago a race of people, like sprites or Welsh leprechauns, lived not far from my home. They loved to play tricks, but when the giants—the big people—came around, the little people knew they could not cope with them. They always hid until it was safe for them to come out and cause some more innocent devilry. One of their hiding places was under a very ancient stone bridge which came to be known as the Fairy Bridge.”

Nancy and her friends smiled, and Bess said with a sigh, “I wish we would meet charming characters like that nowadays instead of sheep and jewel thieves!”

The girls walked around the garden, all chattering gaily except Nancy. Finally George said to her, “What’s on your mind, Nancy? I’ll bet you want to go back to that croft in the glen and do a little sleuthing yourself. But you’re afraid the police won’t approve.”

“You’ve guessed it!”

“Let’s go, anyhow!” George urged.

Nancy said with a rueful grin, “I’ve had enough trouble with the police, but I’ll go if my great-grandmother gives her consent.”

To her delight, Lady Douglas approved of the idea, saying, “I realize how real a detective you are, Nancy, and that you have three incentives—finding your missing heirloom, the sheep thieves, and now the worthless check passer. I know you feel the three mysteries are intertwined.” She kissed each of the girls in turn. “Best of luck to you all!”

Fiona thought she could find a shortcut to the side of the mountain where they had seen the hidden glen. At her direction Nancy turned the car off the main road and onto a very lonely one. Presently the girls became aware of billowing smoke in the distance. As they rounded a bend they were startled to come upon a hillside of dry seedlings on fire.

At once Fiona cried out, “We must get the brooms and beat it out!”

 

 

 

“BROOMS?” Bess echoed. “What do you mean, Fiona?”

“You will see. Nancy, speed up! We must put out the fire before it spreads to the tall trees!”

Nancy did not stop for questions. She raced the car along the road until Fiona said, “Slow down! The brooms are right ahead!”

At the edge of the field was a wooden stand containing stout brooms. Nancy pulled over. Fiona hopped out and dashed to grab four of them. As she rejoined the others, the Scottish girl said the brooms were made of birch twigs, bound together with stout wire. “These are always kept handy for fire fighting.”

Nancy quickly backed the car around and sped off. Fiona explained that anyone who spotted a brush fire was supposed to try putting it out. A few seconds later Nancy reached the scene of the burning seedlings.

“We’ll separate and work on the outer edges,” Fiona ordered. “It may feel a little hot on your feet, but we can’t do anything about that.”

The girls wielded the brooms vigorously on the burning hillside and within half an hour they had extinguished the centermost point of the blaze. The young fire fighters leaned on their brooms wearily. They had saved the big trees!

“I’m sure glad that’s over!” said Bess. She would have liked to sit down and rest, but there was no place to do this.

As the foursome trudged back to the road, they looked at one another. The girls’ faces were red and perspiring from the heat. Their hands were rough and beginning to show a few small blisters. Skirts and sweaters were dirty and the color of their shoes unrecognizable.

George remarked, “We’re sure a sorry sight! 1 hope we don’t meet anybody.”

Bess giggled. “You spoke too soon. Look who’s waiting for us!”

A car had stopped behind Nancy’s and two police officers were standing in the road.

“Anderson and Buchanan!” George exclaimed.

When the girls, carrying their brooms, reached the roadway, the two men looked at them in astonishment. Nancy spoke up, giving Fiona all the credit for knowing what to do.

“But the main thing is, you succeeded!” Buchanan said admiringly.

“I’m glad we were here at just the right moment,” said Nancy, and started toward her car.

Inspector Buchanan hesitated a moment, then walked up to her. “I’m sorry, Miss Drew, that I ever had any doubts about your honesty. I’m sure that no check forger would take time to stop and put out a forest fire.”

Nancy smiled at him. “You were only doing your duty,” she said. “Let’s forget the whole thing, shall we?”

Buchanan nodded and his companion grinned.

Nancy and her friends climbed into the car and waved to the two men. Nancy drove off, leaving Anderson and Buchanan to make a final check of the fire scene.

In a little while the girls reached a spot where Fiona suggested they park.

“We’ll climb from here. I think I can find that glen with the croft where we saw the sheep.”

The Scottish girl proved to be a good pathfinder and presently located a trail leading up the mountainside. Nancy figured that this probably was the route along which the stolen sheep were driven, then anesthetized and piled into a waiting truck.

The girls kept a sharp lookout but saw no one. A few minutes later they reached the croft and began a search of the premises. Not a single clue came to light.

“The only place we haven’t looked,” George said, “is in that heap of ashes in the dooryard.”

She and Bess found long twigs and began to scatter the ashes. Underneath was a heap of unburned trash. It contained tin cans, banana peels, and bits of broken glass.

“That phony shepherd who lived here was a good housekeeper, anyway!” said Bess. “He certainly tidied up this place.”

The remark intrigued Nancy. She wondered why, if the man had intended to get away in a great hurry, he should have bothered to clean up.

Bess was still delving and presently found a small canvas nailed to a board. On it was a conglomeration of colored paints. “What in the world is this?” she asked. After looking at it a moment, she tossed the canvas aside.

Nancy picked it up. Since it was so foreign to the rest of the debris, she felt it might have some significance. No explanation came to her at the moment, so she decided to take the canvas along.

The pile of rubbish was again put together and the ashes sprinkled over the top. Nancy said she thought it was time to call a halt to the investigation.

“Let’s go home now.”

During the ride back, Nancy was quiet and thoughtful. By the time they reached Douglas House, she had decided to try an experiment. After bathing and dressing, she went on a search and collected several hand mirrors.

Later Fiona, Bess, and George found Nancy in Lady Douglas’ sitting room with her great-grandmother. The young sleuth was bending over a table. On it she had laid the canvas, with the mirrors propped up in a circle in the middle of it.

“What on earth are you doing, Nancy?” Bess demanded.

“I had a hunch,” her friend replied. “This canvas, which has various colors that don’t seem to depict anything, may have been painted like the picture we saw of Bonnie Prince Charlie in the museum. Remember? The one with the cylindrical mirror in the center which reflects the portrait of the prince?”

The other girls nodded and peered into the mirrors. None of them could see anything like a picture. Lady Douglas examined the canvas, but could make nothing out of it.

“I agree with Nancy, though, that this might have some significance,” she said. “But how else can we try to find out?”

“Perhaps we have the wrong arrangement,” said Nancy. “Have you a circular glass object which I could make into a mirror?”

Lady Douglas said she could not think of anything, but Nancy was welcome to look around the house and use whatever she could find.

At once the young detective set off with the canvas. In a cupboard on the first floor she found a large goblet of clear glass.

“Just the right size,” Nancy decided. “I hope my idea works.”

She returned to her great-grandmother and asked if it would be all right to paint quicksilver on the inside of the goblet to make it serve as a mirror.

“Yes, indeed, Nancy. Perhaps Tweedie can help you. He has all sorts of things cached away, and possibly may have some quicksilver.”

Unfortunately Tweedie had none, so Nancy decided to drive into Fort William and purchase a small quantity of the coating.

The other girls wanted to go along, so presently the foursome was on its way. As they turned into the main street, Nancy said excitedly, “Look! Isn’t that the red-bearded stranger in the car up ahead?”

Her friends followed her glance. “Sure is!” George declared grimly. “He’s in a different car.”

Nancy set her jaw. This time he was not going to get away from her! She memorized the license number of his car and then set out in pursuit.

The man was driving fast and Nancy increased her own speed. For a few minutes she was afraid she might be stopped by some constable. But presently both cars were out of town and the chase continued.

The red-bearded man seemed to know that he was being followed. He put on a tremendous burst of speed and raced down the road. Nancy kept right after him!

The pursuit went on and on, southward, in the general direction of Loch Lomond.

“Maybe he’s going to the houseboat!” Bess suggested when they were halfway there.

George said she hoped he would stop there. “It’ll give me great pleasure to nab him and turn him over to the police!”

Nancy took her eyes off the road for one second to look at her gas gauge. It registered empty!

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed in dismay. “I’ll have to stop for gas, and we’ll lose our man!”

 

 

 

THE words were hardly out of Nancy’s mouth when her car coughed and came to a halt. She groaned.

George shrugged in resignation. “Well, that’s that! Anyway, Nancy, you can’t blame this car trouble on your unknown threateners!”

Nancy did not answer. She slipped from the car and ran up the road to a house. A pleasant-looking woman answered her knock.

As Nancy asked, “May I use your phone? I want to call the police,” the woman stared at her.

Finally she smiled and said, “You’re the American girl detective, aren’t you? The one whose picture I saw on the cover of
Photographie Internationale!”

“For once I’m glad to be recognized,” said Nancy, smiling.

The woman invited Nancy inside and motioned to a telephone on the hall table. Nancy asked her how to get the proper police office and soon was connected with the superintendent.

“Yes, lass?”

Nancy quickly reported that she was on the trail of a red-bearded man who, she thought, was a sheep thief. “Inspectors Anderson and Buchanan know me,” she added.