Free The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes by Carolyn Keene Page B

only a short distance from an attractive golf course and hotel where they could lunch.
    All the girls had healthy appetites by the time they entered the large dining room. They were intrigued by a long, flower-decorated buffet table in the center of which stood the two-foot-high statue of a golfer carved in ice.
    An hour later the girls took off once more. For several more miles the drive led through wooded hillsides as well as others covered with large patches of heather. In the pastureland cattle and sheep seemed to roam at will across the road and up and down the slopes. Presently Nancy reached a long, narrow body of water which Fiona told them was an arm of Loch Leven.
    At the small village of Ballahulish, Fiona said, “We’ll take a ferry from here into Inverness-shire rather than drive the long way around the arm.”
    Nancy’s car was the first to arrive at the landing. Shortly afterward, other vehicles came up and soon the ferryboat approached.
    The Americans had never seen a craft like this one. It was small and flat, with a single deck. There was a tiny cabin for the pilot and his assistants at the stern. Fastened to the deck behind the cabin, and reaching to the bow of the ferry, was a turntable with stout steel raised gangplanks at either end.
    Because of the strong tide, the ferry was moored alongside the pier. Slowly the turntable began to move until it was at right angles to the deck. The nearer gangplank was let down and the cars drove off. Then Nancy was waved aboard. Three cars followed and they were tightly packed in. Once more the turntable swung halfway around and the little vessel started its journey.
    “Isn’t this divine!” Bess remarked as the refreshing wind whipped the girls’ hair.
    The ride across the loch was short. When the ferry reached the opposite shore, the turntable swung around, the gangplank was lowered, and the guard motioned for Nancy to drive off. She found herself fairly close to the edge of the cobblestone roadway which led up from the water. There was no rail, and on either side below, a marshy growth of reeds protruded from the surface.
    “Look out!” Bess cried out.
    Nancy glanced in the mirror, just in time to see the man behind her put on a burst of speed. The red-bearded stranger! He was so close she could pull over only about six inches. The next moment he gave her car a hard shove. The steering wheel twisted in Nancy’s hands, and before she could do anything, the girls’ convertible shot off into space!
    All its passengers were catapulted into the water except Nancy, who clung to the wheel and managed to stay in her seat. The car landed upright in about four feet of water.
    Immediately there were shouts of alarm. Cars stopped and people jumped out to rush to the girls’ assistance. Completely soaked and muddy, Bess, George, and Fiona waded to shore. Nancy, wet to her waistline, stood up on the seat.
    “I’ll help you, lass!” called a man.
    Already he had removed his shoes and socks and rolled his trousers up above his knees. He jumped into the water and quickly reached Nancy.
    She had recovered from her fright, but still felt a little shaky as she took his hand. “This is very kind of you, sir. Thank you. I wonder how we’ll get this car out.”
    “Ye canna drive it out, that is certain!” the Scotsman said with a smile. “But it is not a heavy car. I will fetch a group of my friends and we can lift it ashore.”
    “I appreciate your helpfulness,” said Nancy, “but I don’t want to put you to so much trouble. Isn’t there a wrecker that could do it?”
    “Aye, and that there be,” the man replied. “If you like, I will get in touch with the owner.”

    Meanwhile, the other girls were fuming over the accident. “The red-bearded man caused it!” Bess declared.
    At that moment a woman walked onto the dock. She gave the three girls a motherly smile and introduced herself as Mrs. Drummond.
    “I am so glad you are not hurt,” she said. “But I am