The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes by Carolyn Keene

indicated one thing to her. “There is something bigger involved. My heirloom may be only an incidental aspect. I believe that whatever is going on actually has nothing to do with Douglas House.
    “This may be a wild theory on my part, but I believe now that the same men who are stealing sheep took my brooch. They feared that if I were able to track them down, I would also uncover clues to their racket.”
    Fiona looked at the young sleuth admiringly. “I can see why you are an internationally known girl detective.”
    Bess was thoughtful. “In other words, Paul Petrie from River Heights, the mysterious Mr. Dewar, and the red-bearded man are in the sheep racket together!” Nancy nodded.
    George had another thought. “Nancy, you suspected the men who moved out of that houseboat. Do you suppose the stolen brooch might have been there?”
    “Maybe,” said Bess, “but you couldn’t hide a whole flock of sheep!” The girls laughed.
    Nancy was not ready to stop talking about the mystery. “Since we suspect smuggling, wool and hides could have been hidden in the houseboat until it was time for shipment, maybe to the United States. That’s where Paul Petrie might come into the picture.”
    “That’s right!” said Fiona. “If the authorities are looking for missing live sheep, perhaps they wouldn’t be looking for wool or hides.”
    The four girls walked along in silence for fully a minute. Then Nancy said, “Tomorrow let’s take a ride to that road where I heard the bleating inside the truck.”
    “You mean go back to the area near Mrs. Drummond’s croft?” Bess asked.
    Nancy nodded and turned to Fiona. “Where could that truck have been coming from? If we go in that direction, we might pick up a clue.”
    Fiona said that the truck would be coming from the glen at the foot of Ben Nevis. Her face brightened in anticipation. “I have an idea. Why don’t we camp out overnight? The glen is a lovely spot, popular with many mountain climbers. They even have running races up and down Ben Nevis.”
    George was intrigued. “How high is the mountain?”
    “About forty-four hundred feet.”
    Bess looked aghast. “You say they run up?”
    “That’s right.”
    George grinned. “I want to see that place, mystery or no mystery!”
    The American girls were thrilled by the idea of camping out, and later Nancy asked Lady Douglas about equipment they could use. After dinner, Nancy’s great-grandmother took the girls on a tour of the mansion.
    “We’ll end our trip in the attic,” she added, “and you girls can look there for proper hiking and camping clothes.”
    As the tour went on, Bess thought she had never seen such an assortment of armor and so many oil portraits in one place. There was even a knight’s armor standing in a corner!
    The attic was not in the least what Nancy had expected. It was very large and handsomely finished. Lady Douglas said it had once been a game room, where the men of Douglas House and their guests played billiards. Now there was the usual collection of old furniture, books, and trunks.
    “You will find all sorts of clothes and blankets in the trunks,” said Nancy’s great-grandmother. “Help yourself to anything appropriate you can find.”
    The visitors were intrigued by the contents of the trunks. There were many kilt skirts, white blouses, long black socks, and various kinds of caps worn by Scottish girls.
    Nancy had a sudden idea. “These would make good disguises,” she said, then stopped speaking, not wishing to worry Lady Douglas with what was going through her mind. But the other girls immediately got her message.
    “Let’s try some on!” George urged.
    To Nancy’s surprise, the tartan outfits belonged to several clans, and she asked her great-grandmother about this. The elderly woman smiled. “Various relatives in our family came from different clans and brought these costumes with them.”
    After trying on a few combinations, Fiona chose the Ogilvy tartan of small