Inspector Rumblepants and the Case of the Golden Haggis by Mike Blyth Page B

brightly, as he walked up to the Inspector.
    â€œYes I am,” answered the Inspector with authority. “Getting to know the lay of the land, checking out the castle for more clues—that type of thing.”
    â€œNot lost then, are you, Sir?” asked the Sergeant.
    â€œAbsolutely not! I never get lost. I have a built-in sense of direction that allows me to always find my way,” stated the Inspector. “I was taught by the Boy Scouts, you know,” he added. “When I got my Bronze Arrow award for navigation, the scoutmaster said that I had an unusual natural talent for finding unique ways to travel between two points.”
    The Sergeant smiled. “I was told that the West Tower is up those stairs and two doors on the right, Sir. Is that correct?” he asked.
    â€œYes, it is,” answered the Inspector gratefully. “Well done,” he added, nodding.
    â€œShall I meet you at your room for breakfast tomorrow morning?” asked Sergeant Widebottom, his stomach growling. “You can make sure that I don’t get lost on the way to breakfast,” he added. Widebottom was hoping that the food that the Inspector would get would be better than what the Corporal had offered to him.
    â€œSuper idea,” Inspector Rumblepants sighed with relief. “Up the stairs and second door on the right,” he restated.
    â€œThat’s right, Sir. See you for breakfast,” said Sergeant Widebottom.
    Both men headed in different directions as they left the Guard House, waving goodbye to each other. A cold moon was shining. Its ghostly light illuminated their way. In the darkness, a shadow moved. Once the two men disappeared from view, the man who had followed Sergeant Widebottom from the streets of Stirling stepped out of his hiding place. An evil gleam was in his eyes. He headed out of the city gates to report the events of the night.

Chapter 8
    The Ambush
    T he next morning, Sergeant Widebottom met Inspector Rumblepants and Agent Amber for a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, toast, and crumpets, all washed down with steaming tea. Sergeant Widebottom told them both about his strange meeting the night before with the secret agent from the Scottish Secret Service. While Widebottom was digging into his third helping of toasted crumpets, Agent Amber asked him what the man looked like. There were only three men in the Scottish Secret Service, and she knew two of them. She explained that only one of the agents was a full-time spy, and that the other two did spying as a part-time hobby. Of the part-time agents, one was a butcher and the other sold secondhand ponies.
    They all agreed that someone should speak to Professor Aberdeen to see whether he could offer them any clues as to who might have stolen the Golden Haggis. However, Agent Amber told the policemen that she had a top-secret meeting to attend, so she could not join them until the following day. Her meeting, she hoped, might reveal who had stolen the Golden Haggis.
    They agreed that Rumblepants and Widebottom would meet with Aberdeen and that they would all get together later at the University of Loch Ness. After breakfast, they packed their bags, and Rumblepants and Widebottom helped Agent Amber carry her bulging cases and bags to her carriage. They said goodbye to Colonel Smithering Blyyd. Just as they were about to head off in their own one-horse carriage, Inspector Thistle McDonald strode into the courtyard.
    â€œGood morning!” Inspector Rumblepants greeted McDonald. “We were looking for you and hoping to have a chat over breakfast.”
    McDonald did not say hello. He got straight to business, saying, “I understand that you are going to speak to Professor Aberdeen.”
    â€œYes, indeed. Want to come along, dear chap?” asked Inspector Rumblepants cheerfully. “There’s plenty of room for you in the carriage.”
    Inspector Thistle McDonald smiled weakly.