The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes (5 page)

“That’s possible,” the lawyer agreed. “But even in perfectly legitimate business deals, codes are often used, so this may not indicate that anything is wrong.”

Nancy was not convinced. “The note that was left in our mailbox in River Heights said ‘Drew is going to bomb you.’ Do you suppose that the person who tried to warn us got Dewar and Drew mixed up?”

“My goodness, Nancy!” said George. “Your theories certainly are way out today!”

Bess leaned forward. “There’s one person who is mighty interested in what you’re saying. That man at the table near us—the one who’s alone. He has been trying hard to hear every word.”

Nancy turned to get a look at the stranger. He was about forty years of age, well built, and had a noticeably reddish complexion. Now he quickly averted his gaze, hastily signed his check, and left the table.

Nancy’s group had practically finished eating and she asked to be excused. Before the waitress could pick up the check on the stranger’s table, Nancy sidled past and took a look at the check. The man had scribbled on it the number of the room which the girls had just vacated!

“He must be Mr. Dewar,” Nancy thought. The others met her in the lobby and she told them of her discovery. The stranger was not around.

“You may be on a completely wrong trail, Nancy,” Mr. Drew said. “I advise you not to jump to conclusions about this man. I’m going to start on my business conferences this afternoon. Why don’t you girls rent a car and do some sightseeing?”

“All right,” Nancy agreed. “Where do you suggest that we go?”

“How about asking the head porter? He’ll know the interesting spots and can give you the name of a rental agency. Perhaps he’ll even engage a car for you and have it brought to the door.”

After her father had left, Nancy approached the porter’s desk. She made her request and the man said he would be very glad to make the arrangements. He asked Nancy to wait while he telephoned about hiring a small car.

“Do you have an international driver’s license?” the porter asked.

“Yes.”

He telephoned to an agency which promised to deliver a small car to the hotel within half an hour.

“Have you ever been to Loch Lomond?” the porter asked the girls. Learning that they had not, he said he would recommend visiting the loch as a highlight of their tour. “On the way,” the man added, “I suggest a stop at the University of Glasgow, which is old and famous. And take your raincoats. Scotland’s weather is apt to change quickly.”

The porter brought out a map and penciled directions before handing it to Nancy.

“I hope you have a good time,” he said. “And don’t forget the left-side-of-the-road driving.”

Nancy assured him she would be very careful. Half an hour later the three girls were in the car and setting off for the university. The campus was extensive and the gray stone buildings impressive. They were very symmetrical, with a fine balance of towers.

Nancy finally drove out of the city and found the road to Loch Lomond. When they reached the country area, Bess exclaimed, “What a lovely landscape! Don’t you adore those bushy hedges? Nancy, stop! I want to see what they are.”

Nancy pulled to the side of the road. “They’re rose brier and hawthorn,” she said. “They must be beautiful when they’re in bloom.”

She drove on and presently George noticed some monkey puzzle trees and remarked on their twisted, interwoven limbs. “How sparse their foliage is, compared to the oaks and elms!”

“Speaking of monkeys, Nancy, we haven’t had any real bad luck on this trip,” Bess said. “Maybe we should thank that monkey pin Ned gave you.”

All three girls laughed, but suddenly worried looks came over their faces.

“Look out, Nancy!” George warned. “That car coming toward us is on the wrong side of the road! The driver must be an American!”

Nancy honked her horn wildly, but the driver paid no attention. Nancy was trying to decide what to do. If she stayed where she was, there would certainly be an accident. But if she moved to the opposite side of the road, the other driver might suddenly do the same thing!

Bess was terrified. She shrieked, “That man’s going to crash into us!”

 

 

 

THE oncoming driver seemed to have no intention of moving to the other side of the road.

“I’ll have to pull off!” Nancy concluded quickly. In a split second she deliberately plowed into a hedge and stopped. At almost the same moment the stranger yanked his steering wheel, swerving his small, closed car into his left lane.

As he whizzed past the girls, the man held his right hand up in such a way that it shielded his face.

“He’s crazy!” George said angrily.

“Not so crazy that he’d let us see who he is,” Bess stormed.

Nancy sat still without saying a word. She had not yet recovered from her fright. Ruefully she looked out the window at the ruined section of hedge.

“I suppose I’ll have to pay for the damage,”

Nancy thought, and turned to look back at the house they had just passed. It was a small, quaint stone structure with an arched entranceway.

Bess and George were still talking about the near accident. George had tried to get the license number of the other car, but had caught only part of it: GB-2.

By this time Nancy had recovered her equilibrium, and now speculated on the identity of the driver who had tried to ram them.

Suddenly Bess spoke up. “Nancy! Remember that threatening note with the Scotch plaid? Do you think this could be another attempt to damage a car of yours?”

“It could very well be,” Nancy agreed. “Even if that driver was on the wrong side of the road by mistake, my horn should have warned him.”

At that moment the door of the stone house opened and a woman of about fifty bustled up to the girls. She was rather plump, had high color in her cheeks, and her black hair was pulled straight back with a knot at the nape of her neck. Her expression was severe but not unfriendly.

Immediately Nancy and her friends stepped from the car. Nancy introduced the three, and the woman said she was Mrs. Gilmer.

“I’m dreadfully sorry this happened,” Nancy told her apologetically. “Actually it was not my fault. I had to avoid a bad accident.” She told about the oncoming driver and how he had swerved at the last moment. Tire marks in the road attested her statement. “I will be very glad to pay for the damage, however.”

The woman’s expression changed to one of kindness. “Nae, nae, I’m just glad ye’re all safe.” She went into a tirade about drivers that raced up and down this stretch of road “as if Tam o’ Shanter’s witch was after them.” The girls smiled.

“I’ll back the car out,” Nancy offered. “Then we can see how much of the hedge is broken.”

The damage proved not to be extensive and Mrs. Gilmer said, “I canna charge ye a farthing. Ye are Americans and obeying our laws. Ye shouldna’ suffer for the daft actions of someone else.”

Bess was on the verge of blurting out their suspicions about the driver, but thought better of it and kept still. Nancy thanked Mrs. Gilmer. Smiling, she added, “Left-side-of-the-road driving has always puzzled me. How did the custom start?”

The Scotswoman said the only explanation she had ever heard was that in ancient times the roads were not very safe for horsemen because of brigands.

“‘Tis said a rider would hold the reins in the left hand, and keep a sword in the right ready to deal with any highwayman coming on horseback from the opposite direction.”

“Ugh!” said Bess. “I’m glad I didn’t live in those dangerous times!”

Mrs. Gilmer smiled. “I guess it actually wasna’ any more dangerous than it is now, as ye all found out!”

The girls said good-by to her and set off once more for Loch Lomond. The drive was most pleasant, leading past several big estates with high stone walls screening them from the road.

Presently George called out, “I see the lake!”

“Loch,” Bess corrected her.

“Isn’t it lovely!” Nancy exclaimed.

Bess sighed. “Loch Lomond is just as beautiful as the songs and stories about it.”

As far as the girls could see, the crystal-clear water was surrounded by wooded hills. Islands dotted the surface of the loch.

Nancy had pulled up beside a cove and sat staring ahead at a row of houseboats. They looked like huge square boxes with windows. All were one story high and painted white. Each was secured to its own dock.

“Girls,” Nancy said excitedly, “those houseboats remind me of one of the pictures on that strange note we found in the hotel room!”

“Me too!” George agreed. “But do you think a houseboat has anything to do with our mystery?”

Nancy shrugged. “I’m going to keep it in mind as a clue.”

Bess, meanwhile, had been looking at the sky. What had started out to be a bright day was now an overcast one, with dark clouds scudding over the sun. The wind had picked up considerably.

“Maybe we’d better not go much farther,” she suggested. “If a storm breaks, I’d just as soon get back to the hotel. Wouldn’t you?”

Nancy agreed and said she would drive only a short distance. In the main, the road kept fairly close to the water. At one point near the shore a small stone pedestal had been erected. At the top was the statue of a small boy.

“I wonder why it was put there,” said George.

“I read about it in a guidebook,” Nancy answered. “The poor little fellow was drowned at this spot, so his parents erected the statue in his memory.”

“How sad!” Bess murmured.

The wind began to blow in great gusts and when the girls reached the small town of Luss, Nancy decided to turn around. At times the car shivered in the blasts. Nancy almost had to fight the wheel to keep in her lane.

“Let’s hurry!” Bess urged. “I don’t like this!”

Nancy put on more speed. By the time they reached the cove where the houseboats were tied up, the wind was blowing with gale force. The large craft were rocking violently.

“I sure wouldn’t want to be living in one of those,” George remarked. “Not in this weather.”

Suddenly a tremendous rush of wind came directly at them from the loch. It actually forced the car to the other side of the road! Nancy jammed on her brakes and the car held its position.

Bess and George, meanwhile, were watching the tossing houseboats. Suddenly Bess gave a shriek.

“One of the boats is going over!”

Nancy turned to look. The gale had lifted the third houseboat out of the water and sent it crashing onto the beach! The next second it toppled over! The girls could hear screams and cries above the howling wind.

“There are people in it! We must do something to help them!” Nancy exclaimed.

Without thinking of the danger to themselves, the three girls took their raincoats and hats from the rear seat and quickly pulled them on. Nancy had shut off the engine and put on the hand brake.

Opening the door was like pushing against a gigantic wave, but the girls finally managed it and struggled out sideways. By this time rain was falling in a sheet. Loch Lomond was being whipped into white foam and small boats in the cove were tossing wildly.

As the girls endeavored to go forward along the shore, the screams from within the overturned houseboat increased. Could they get close enough to assist the trapped victims? No one had appeared from the other craft. Were their occupants away or afraid to come outside?

As the girls plowed toward the overturned boat, Bess gave a shout of alarm. She was behind the others, who turned quickly.

Nancy and George were horrified to see the force of the wind pushing Bess rapidly toward the angry water! Unable to keep her balance, she fell in headlong, the churning water crashing over her!

 

 

 

IN a flash, Nancy and George splashed into the whipping water of Loch Lomond and went to Bess’s assistance. She tried twice to get up, only to be knocked over again by a lashing wave.

Reaching her side, the two rescuers helped her stand up, though their own footing was precarious. Arm in arm, the three struggled to the beach.

Bess sank down. “Th-thanks for saving me.”

“Do you want to go back to the car?” Nancy asked her. “George and I can investigate the houseboat.”

“No, no,” Bess replied quickly. “I’m all right. I want to help the poor people in there.”

Above the wind the girls could hear a child crying, “Mama! Mama! Wake up!”

The three hurried forward and clambered onto the side of the overturned houseboat. There was no door but Nancy managed to open a window, and leaned down over the sill. She surveyed what was below her. Furniture and rugs lay scattered on the opposite wall, which now formed the floor of the houseboat. Stretched out was a woman and beside her knelt a little girl, sobbing.