The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes

by Carolyn G. Keene

  The astounded girls turned to Mr. MacNab. After all, it was his decision to make.

  He replied firmly, “I certainly cannot release you at this time. But if you will reveal what you know about the missing heirloom, things may go easier for you.”

  Paul Petrie shrugged. “Okay. Miss Drew, that man Tweedie at Lady Douglas’ house has the heirloom!”

  CHAPTER XIX

  The Enemy Spotted

  “TWEEDIE!” Bess exclaimed, aghast. “He couldn’t have taken Nancy’s heirloom!”

  Paul Petrie smirked. “You think that butler is honest, but you’ll find out to the contrary when you investigate.”

  Nancy and her friends were thunderstruck by Petrie’s accusation. All were skeptical, but had to admit they knew little about the servant.

  “We’d better get back and find out!” said George.

  Nancy thought so too. The girls left the police office and hurried to their car. Nancy drove at a fast speed all the way to Fort William. Fiona hopped out of the car long enough to buy a bottle of quicksilver and a paintbrush, then the ride was continued.

  As soon as they reached home, the four girls rushed to Lady Douglas’ suite and told her what they had heard.

  “It cannot be true!” she said. “Tweedie has been here many, many years, and I have never had any reason to doubt his honesty.”

  Nevertheless, she felt that she should question the man. Unsuspecting of what he was about to hear, Tweedie smiled pleasantly when he appeared and asked Lady Douglas what she wished.

  “I am at a loss for words,” said Nancy’s great-grandmother, “but I feel I must find out something from you. A report has come to us that you have the topaz-and-diamond brooch meant for Miss Nancy.”

  Tweedie went ash white and began to tremble. For several seconds he was speechless. Nancy felt sorry for the man and longed to help him, but she knew that this was Lady Douglas’ affair.

  By now Tweedie had recovered his wits. “Lady Douglas,” he said with dignity, “I did not take the brooch. I know nothing about the pin. It is my belief that whoever accused me is covering up something himself.”

  Lady Douglas smiled at her long-time servant. “I was sure this would be your reply. I never doubted you.”

  Nancy now told Tweedie of having caught an American who, she believed, was in league with the sheep stealers. “I have a hunch that when the police obtain a confession from him and his friends, we will also get a clue to the missing heirloom.”

  To show she had complete confidence in him, Nancy asked Tweedie if he would help her make a mirror out of a goblet. The man looked surprised, but when told that it might aid in producing a clue in the mystery, he was eager to help. In a short time the quicksilver had dried and the cylindrical mirror was ready to be put to use.

  Lady Douglas, Tweedie, and the other girls were interested onlookers as Nancy placed the goblet mirror upside down in the center of the canvas board containing the conglomerate of paint. This time, Nancy could distinguish a tower of stones.

  “Have you any idea what this could be?” she asked her great-grandmother.

  After a little study, both Lady Douglas and Tweedie thought that the tower might be part of ancient stone ruins not far away.

  “It is in a deserted area,” said Tweedie. “Would you like me to guide you girls there?”

  “Oh, yes!” Nancy replied. “Since we found this picture where we know one of the sheep thieves was staying, I’m sure it has something to do with their work—it might even indicate another hideout!”

  Plans were made for a trip early the following day. The girls learned that the ruins were called beehives because of their shape. They were also known as brochs, and dated back to prehistoric times.

  Soon after breakfast the next morning the searchers set out. Tweedie directed Nancy onto a narrow, little-used country road and twenty minutes later the visitors got their first glimpse of the stone tower.

  “It really is shaped like a beehive,” Bess remarked, “except it has no top.”

  Nancy parked, and Tweedie led the girls across a meadow to view the ruins. The odd structure had no windows. It was made of varied sizes of fieldstones and stood about thirty feet high.

  Tweedie said, “It must have been much higher at one time, and perfectly round. Only the front section is standing now.”

  He led the way to a very narrow opening—the only one into the broch. The passage was barely two feet wide, and tunneled through the ten-foot-thick wall.

  “This is an amazing sight,” Nancy remarked, looking at the circular, upcurving stonework.

  At intervals there were oblong openings with stone slabs laid crosswise in them like floors.

  “What were those little rooms used for?” Bess asked.

  Tweedie replied that historians were not sure. Some thought that during times of enemy invasions, an entire village of people would crowd into the broch, seal off the entranceway, and live there until the danger was over.

  “Probably a whole family lived in one of those rooms,” Tweedie continued. “Originally there was a circular staircase with a gallery at each level which permitted the inhabitants to go up and down. Also, they had a large hearth in the center for cooking. Now, I’ll show you something else.”

  He led the girls around a low wall that was still standing and pointed out an entrance to a lower level. “That was where they had a well and got their water.”

  George asked, “If the beehive was solid—how did those people get any air?”

  Tweedie said that most scholars felt the top was open and ventilation was provided through a latticed roof with a veranda. “Some archaeologists even believe this was used as a living room.”

  “Very cozy,” Bess commented. “But I’d still prefer hotel accommodations!”

  The others laughed. Then Nancy’s thoughts turned to the mystery they were trying to solve. The girls looked around for clues but found none.

  “There’s certainly no sign of anyone’s hiding out here,” Nancy said finally.

  Fiona turned to Tweedie. “Isn’t there another broch up the road a ways?”

  When he said Yes, Nancy urged that they go to see it. They reached this beehive a few minutes later and began investigating. Suddenly the young sleuth said excitedly, “Here are some bits of wool! And a piece of sheepskin!”

  “You think the sheep thieves use this place?” Fiona asked.

  “Yes,” said Nancy. “And this evidence indicates they are not taking away live sheep to butcher or sell. They want only the wool and skins.”

  Bess groaned in distaste. “Ugh!” she said. “You mean the area around this broch might be a sheep graveyard?”

  Nancy did not reply. She noticed that Tweedie had slipped away. She felt sure he was doing some investigating on his own, which proved to be true. He came back a few minutes later and announced that he had done a little digging with a sharp stone.

  “I’m afraid this is indeed a sheep graveyard.”

  The group was able to piece the whole operation together now. Apparently the thieves lured a flock into some hidden glen, put them to sleep, and transported them by truck to this broch. Here they killed the sheep, sheared and skinned them, took the meat, then buried the rest to avoid detection by the police.

  “I think we should return to Douglas House at once,” said Nancy, “and inform the police office of our latest findings.”

  They sped back to the house and Nancy put in the call. After hearing the story, the officer promised to post men at the broch and try to catch the thieves red-handed.

  “I will let you know as soon as we have any news,” he promised.

  The next day the girls attended church services and awaited word from the police. It was not until the following morning that the superintendent telephoned to say that nothing suspicious had happened at the broch.

  “But down at Dumbarton on the Clyde,” he added, “inspectors have come upon an illegal shipment of wool and sheepskins aboard a freighter destined for the
United States.”

  After the call was ended, Nancy said to the other girls, “Dumbarton is directly south of where the houseboat stood on Loch Lomond. I’ll bet that’s the place Paul Petrie was heading for when we were chasing him.”

  George spoke up. “But Dewar and the other thieves weren’t caught there. Where are they?”

  Nancy shrugged. “They’re not at the croft, not at the houseboat, and not at the broch. They’re holed up somewhere, and it’s my idea that they’re waiting for a signal.”

  “From whom?” Fiona asked.

  “Paul Petrie!”

  The others were startled but could see the logic of Nancy’s deduction. Bess and George recalled the bagpipe music in Mr. Dewar’s room. “It could have been Petrie practicing,” George said. “Then there was the piper on Ben Nevis who played the very same tune.”

  “I’ve just had a brainstorm,” Nancy declared. “Great-Grandmother, it’s a daring one, but I hope you won’t have any objections. I’d like to dress in the Cameron kilt and the rest of the costume I wore before, climb Ben Nevis to the point where I saw that piper, and play Scots, Wha Hae.”

  “You can play that on the bagpipes?” Lady Douglas asked in amazement.

  Nancy confessed that she could render only the first few bars on the chanter, but they were all the mysterious piper had played. She would use the full instrument, however, to imitate him. She went on to explain about the whistling on the bagpipes, which was apparently the second signal used by the gang.

  “I’ll need a chanter that can produce a whistle,” Nancy told her relative. “Can you help me obtain one?”

  Lady Douglas was intrigued by the scheme. She said, “Tweedie was once a reedmaker in a factory. In fact, he has several bagpipes, although he can’t play. I’ll ask him to bring them.” She pulled the bell cord.

  In a few minutes Tweedie appeared. He was surprised at Lady Douglas’ request, but was glad to assist. He invited the whole group to his own little sitting room and workshop where he kept his bagpipes.

  “They are all in working order,” he said proudly, and invited Nancy to try them.

  She did, and found one which was not so heavy to carry as the others. After playing the first phrase of Scots, Wha Hae several times she did it like a professional.

  “Could you make me a reed that whistles and put it into a chanter?” Nancy asked Tweedie.

  “Aye, and that I could,” he replied. “I can have it ready in an hour. Will that be all right?”

  Nancy said she would like to use it that evening, and since it stayed light so late, there was no hurry.

  As Lady Douglas and the girls went back to her sitting room, Bess said, “Now, Nancy, tell us your whole idea.”

  The young detective smiled. “I thought we four girls could go to Ben Nevis glen this evening and camp out. Near sunset I’ll climb the mountain to the spot where I saw the piper, and play the two signals. If the thieves are in the area—and I have a hunch they are—my signaling may start something.”

  “It sounds fine,” said Bess, “but I think we should take a couple of police officers with us for safety.”

  Lady Douglas agreed She herself telephoned the superintendent, who said he would send two men up in the early evening. Nancy was delighted later when Tweedie handed her a chanter containing the new reed. She practiced on it until she could obtain a good strong whistle.

  The officers who arrived at Douglas House were Anderson and Buchanan! Both carried binoculars.

  Morag had packed a picnic supper and the group set off in two cars. Soon after reaching the campsite they ate, and for a while sat around discussing the mystery. When the light began to wane, the group started up the mountain.

  Anderson was carrying Nancy’s bagpipes and talking with her animatedly in low tones. Bess giggled and whispered to George, “Ned Nickerson ought to see her now! Bet he’d be jealous.”

  About halfway to their goal, Nancy heard a stealthy sound to her left beyond some boulders and trees. She darted off by herself to investigate. On the far side of a thicket she saw a lone lamb which started to bleat pitifully. Nancy walked over to comfort the baby animal.

  Suddenly she felt the presence of something behind her and turned to look. Poised on the limb of a nearby tree, and about to spring toward her and the lamb, was a large wildcat!

  CHAPTER XX

  Detective Divers

  FOR a moment Nancy panicked. Would the wildcat pounce on her for interfering with his intent to attack the lamb?

  A sudden thought came to Nancy. She had once heard that yelling loudly and heaving stones could scare off a wildcat. Though she knew it might ruin her chances of tricking the sheep thieves by alerting them, she had to take that risk.

  Nancy, at the top of her lungs, shouted repeatedly, “Scat! Get out of here!” She kept hunting for a stone, found a good-sized one a moment later, and threw it at the hissing animal.

  The wildcat leaped off the branch to keep from being hit but did not attack. Apparently frightened, the beast turned tail and ran off!

  Nancy, weak with relief, sat down beside the baby lamb. She gave her a hug and said, “You go find your mother! Run, now!” She gave the animal a gentle slap and watched her start down the mountainside.

  Nancy shouted at the top of her lungs

  The commotion had brought Bess, George, and the two inspectors on the run. Nancy told them what had happened, and said she hoped her scheme for bringing the thieves into the open had not been ruined.

  “We must take that chance,” said Anderson. “I’m glad you weren’t mauled.”

  Nancy felt encouraged. “Let’s go!” she said.

  As soon as they reached the ridge, Anderson handed her the bagpipes. Nancy stood alone on a little promontory, while the others remained hidden. She played the first phrase of Scots, Wha Hae loudly and clearly.

  In the meantime, the two inspectors had trained their binoculars oh the landscape. Far below, in a natural hollow, stood a flock of sheep. Four shepherds were tending them.

  Buchanan handed his binoculars to Bess and asked if she could identify any of the men. It was fully a minute before she could get a good look at their faces. Suddenly she said excitedly, “One of them is Mr. Dewar!”

  Just then, Anderson, through his glasses, spotted a large, covered truck parked on the nearby country road. The vehicle was well. screened by trees.

  Inspector Anderson said, “Mr. Buchanan and I will circle around to that spot and watch what’s going on. You girls wait here. Give us twenty minutes, Miss Drew, and then play the whistling sound on your bagpipes.”

  George said, “May we borrow the binoculars so we can see what’s going on?”

  Anderson laughed as he turned his over to her. “Aye, and I don’t blame you for wanting to watch.”

  The two inspectors scrambled down the mountainside. Nancy changed the chanter on the bagpipes and then kept her eyes on her wristwatch, while George trained the binoculars on the flock of sheep.

  “Here goes!” said Nancy finally.

  Putting the mouthpiece to her lips, she made a whistling sound. It was exactly the same as the one she had heard several times before.

  Within a few seconds George began to report what she was seeing through the binoculars. “Those four men have some kind of guns and are spraying the sheep!”

  Nancy, Bess, and Fiona could vaguely make out the scene below and were horrified a minute later to see the animals toppling over.

  The men dragged the motionless sheep one by one to the rear of the truck. Finally the van was filled, and the thieves drove off.

  The girls were speechless until Bess burst out, “Why didn’t the inspectors stop them?”

  “Perhaps,” said Nancy, “they’re going to follow those men to get more evidence.” As the truck pulled out of sight, she added, “Let’s go back to Douglas House and wait for word from the police.”

  When they arrived, Nancy’s great-grandmother was relieved to see them. She was astounded at the g
irls’ story, and said, “My congratulations!”

  Nancy smiled. “Let’s not celebrate until the case is ended. I still must locate the missing heirloom.”

  The young sleuth found sleep impossible. She kept trying to figure out what Anderson and Buchanan had been doing. Finally a thought came to her. “Maybe they had an infrared camera to take pictures, in the dark, of the crooks’ operations as evidence before nabbing them!”

  An early-morning phone call from the police office confirmed Nancy’s guess. The men in the truck had been caught and had confessed to their part in the sheep racket. The superintendent requested that Nancy and her friends come to headquarters as soon as possible.

  Later at the police office the four girls learned how Anderson and Buchanan had trailed the truck. They had taken photographs of the thieves’ every activity, which was irrefutable proof of their operations.

  Mr. Dewar flew into a rage. If the Glasgow hotel had not made a mistake in the names, he ranted, and if dumb Paul Petrie had not translated the directions for the sheep smuggling into Gaelic to impress his boss, the scheme might have gone on successfully. He had slipped into Dewar’s room and put the note in a bureau drawer when a chambermaid left the door unlocked while she went down the hall to the linen closet for clean towels.

  “As for you, Miss Drew,” Dewar rasped, “Petrie was supposed to keep you away from Inverness-shire. He bungled that job too.”

  Nancy learned that Petrie had caused the smashup of her car in River Heights, then followed up with the warning note with the piece of plaid. To scare her further, he had planted the bomb in the mailbox and telephoned the threat to Ned. In Scotland he had attempted to force Nancy’s car into a ditch so that she would be injured and unable to proceed with her sleuthing.

  At this point, Petrie was brought into the room. The superintendent ordered him to confess his part in the scheme.

  The American glared at Nancy. “She’s too smart. Sure, I gave the story about her to the River Heights Graphic. It was to throw suspicion away from Dewar and me.” Petrie suddenly grinned. “She’s smart, oh yes, but I sure gave her the slip in Edinburgh,” he boasted, “when I used a stolen pass to get into the court building.”