The Clue Of The Whistling Bagpipes Part 16

"It identifies the flock, which wanders all over," the Scottish girl replied. "Another farmer will use blue."

They talked for a few minutes with the shepherd, who said his dog was one of the best in the country. "He has won prizes in contests of cutting out sheep. Would you like to see him do it?" the man asked.

"Oh, yes!" the girls chorused.

He asked them to stand off at a little distance. As the collie waited, the shepherd went into the center of the a.s.sembled flock and laid his hand on the head of one of the sheep. Then he walked back to where the girls were standing.

"Trixie," he said to the dog, "bring me that sheep! "

The dog was off at once. He wound his way in and out among the animals, pushing softly at various ones and nosing at the legs of a few, to make a path for the designated sheep to get out. Now he worried the chosen ewe, which gamboled quickly to the man's side. The whole procedure had taken less than a minute!

"That's marvelous!" Nancy exclaimed.

As she stood admiring the ewe, she suddenly felt a tug on her jacket and looked down to find that the sheep had a b.u.t.ton in its mouth! Nancy laughed and extricated it.

The shepherd grinned. "There's almost nothing a sheep won't try the taste of."

The girls thanked him for the demonstration, then hurried back to the Drummond croft. They learned from their hostess that during the night a large number of sheep had disappeared from one of the nearby farms.

"A large number?" Bess asked. "Could very many stand up in that truck you saw, Nancy?"

The young detective had a theory. "It's my guess they weren't standing up. The thieves put them to sleep, but one lamb had revived by the time I heard it. The unconscious sheep, no doubt, were piled in that truck!"

"How cruel!" Bess cried out.

Mrs. Drummond smiled ruefully. "Thieves are never kind, gentle people," she remarked. "But your idea is a good one, Nancy. Perhaps we should report it to the police."

"They might think my idea farfetched," said Nancy. "Let's wait until I have some concrete evidence."

At that moment the telephone rang, and after answering it, Mrs. Drummond told Nancy that her car was ready. "I'd like you girls to stay for a while, though. I'm enjoying your company. But when you're ready to go, I'll drive you to the garage."

"Thank you," said Nancy. "I think as soon as we help you tidy the house, we had better be on our way."

As the girls were about to leave, Nancy found to her embarra.s.sment that Mrs. Drummond would not take a farthing from her guests. This proved to be the case also with the garageman. He insisted that Nancy's being pushed into the water was bad enough treatment for the visitors, and the least the natives could do for the girls was to speed them on their way without charge.

Nancy was about to insist on some kind of reimburs.e.m.e.nt when Fiona touched her arm and whispered, "Please do not say any more. These people will be offended."

Mrs. Drummond gave Nancy a little farewell squeeze and said, "If you can solve the mystery of the stolen sheep, that will be wonderful pay for all of us."

The girls climbed into the sports car, now clean and shiny, and took the road to Fort William. When they reached the attractive town with its colorful waterfront and many historic points of interest, they went sightseeing, then had luncheon at a hotel.

Afterward, Fiona took them to a museum. The girls found the quaint objects on display interesting, but what fascinated them most was a unique kind of portrait.

On a table lay a small, circular oil painting which looked like nothing else but daubs in various colors. At the center of the picture stood a cylindrical mirrored tube. When the girls looked into it, they could see the reflection of a handsome young man in Georgian clothes.

"He is our famous Bonnie Prince Charlie," Fiona explained, "grandson of King James II, and son of the Old Pretender, who lived in exile in France. In 1745 the young Charles returned to Scotland and gathered the Highlanders under his banner. He was badly defeated at the Battle of Culloden Moor and hid out in the glens and hills.

"There were still many people in Scotland who would have liked him to win. One of these was a woman named Flora MacDonald. She had the prince disguise himself in her maid's clothes, which enabled him to escape and return to France."

"How romantic!" Bess murmured. "And oh, isn't he handsome!"

Fiona giggled. "Yes, but history tells us he did not marry until he was fifty-two."

"Better late than never," Bess said dreamily.

As the girls walked from the building, Fiona said that since the Americans were now going to Douglas House, she felt she should say good-by and go on to the Isle of Skye. Instantly Nancy, Bess, and George urged her not to leave them.

"If you're not in a hurry to get home," said Nancy, "I'd love to have you guide us around. That will be very helpful in our sleuthing."

"In that case, I'll be happy to stay with you," Fiona said. "And I should like very much to meet your great-grandmother, Nancy."

"And I want you to," Nancy replied.

Nancy's heart began to beat faster. At last she was going to meet the wonderful great-grandmother about whom she had heard so much!

CHAPTER XIII.

A Surprise Announcement

THE girls traveled on a main road for some time and stopped for luncheon at a small hotel. It stood at a corner of the country road they were to follow next. The visitors were in mountainous country now, and when they set off again, Bess began to worry about the narrowness of the road.

"What do we do if a car comes the other way?" she asked, fearful that another accident would befall Nancy's automobile.

A moment later Fiona pointed to a turnout at the side of the road. "You will find many of these lay-bys on all the narrow roads in Scotland," she said.

Bess relaxed and turned her attention to the beautiful scenery. She mentioned a yellow-flowered plant which grew along the roadside. "That's lovely. What is it?"

"We call it gorse," the Scottish girl replied.

She smiled. "It blooms the year round, and there is an old saying that when gorse stops blooming, kissing will go out of fashion!"

The American girls laughed and George remarked with a twinkle in her eyes, "Bess, how about your taking home a couple of bushes to plant?"

Bess tossed her head. "What's the matter with kissing?"

About four o'clock Fiona said that she believed the grounds of Douglas House lay just ahead. The car climbed a particularly steep hill, which was flat on top. At the far end the girls could see the many chimneys of the large residence. There was an extensive area of gra.s.s and the landscape of the estate was dotted with stately sycamores, beech, and silver birch trees.

A beautiful garden surrounded the palatial home. Many flowers were already in bloom. To one side of the house was a small pond bordered by Douglas fir trees.

"What a magnificent place!" said Bess. "Nancy, I don't see why you and your father don't come here to live!"

Fiona spoke up. "It is lovely at this time of year," she said. "But it is very lonesome in winter, when the winds howl and the atmosphere is damp and cheerless."

"But you like it," George commented.

"When you're brought up in the Highlands, then you do," the Scottish girl answered. "But if you are not used to the ruggedness, it can make you melancholy."