The Clue of the Whistling Bagpipes Read Free Page B

display was a copy of Photographie Internationale. On the cover was the picture of Nancy sleuthing with a magnifying glass.
    “It’s pretty good,” she thought. “But oh, how I wish Bess had won the trip some other way!”
    Nancy was so intent upon the magazine that she did not notice she was slowly being surrounded by a throng of curious persons. As she turned to leave, a cheer went up and everyone began to clap. This attracted the attention of more people, who came hurrying from every direction.
    “It’s really you—Nancy Drew!” exclaimed a little girl in the crowd. “You’re famous!”
    “You’re the girl detective!” cried another.
    Suddenly a boy pushed his way through to Nancy and begged, “Please, miss, may I have your autograph?” The boy had big, blue pleading eyes. He was very shabbily dressed, and Nancy guessed that his family had little to spend on clothes. She smiled sympathetically and wrote her name on the piece of paper he held out.
    “Oh, thank you!” The boy grinned and moved to the back of the crowd.
    “I want one tool” said a little girl, running forward. “But I haven’t any paper.”
    “Oh, that’s all right, honey,” said Nancy. She opened her handbag and took out a small notebook. After writing her name on one of the pages, she tore it out and handed the signature to the child.
    This became the signal for a dozen children to push forward and ask for Nancy’s autograph. She graciously obliged, but as several adults came up, the young sleuth shook her head.
    “I’m sorry,” she said politely. “I did it just for the children.”
    As she spoke, Nancy noticed that the shabbily dressed little boy was still at the rear of the crowd. To her annoyance, he was actually handing her autograph to a man, who in turn was giving the boy a dollar bill for it!
    “Why, the idea!” Nancy thought. She called out to the man, “I said the autographs were only for the children. Please give that back!”
    Instead of doing this, the man gave her a supercilious grin. “Thanks, babe,” he shouted. “This will come in handy!”
    He wheeled and hurried down the street. Nancy was furious. Instinct told her he was a person of whom to beware. She must get back that paper!
    Pushing through the surprised crowd, she dashed down the street. Her quarry, who had had a good head start, turned a corner. When Nancy reached it, he was nowhere in sight. Disappointed, she retraced her steps and once more started up Main Street.
    To her relief, the crowd at the photography shop had dispersed. The only one who lingered was the little boy who had sold her signature.
    Seeing Nancy, he rushed to her side. “Please, may I have another autograph?” he asked.
    Nancy was angry. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she faced him squarely. “To sell?” she asked.
    The little boy began to quiver. “N-no,” he stammered. “It’s just for me.”
    “Who was that man you sold my autograph to?”
    The boy began to cry. “I don’t know—honest I don’t. After you said you wouldn’t give out autographs to grownups, he waved that dollar bill in my face and I couldn’t say No. My mother needs money awful bad.”
    Nancy released her grip on the boy’s shoulders. He kept insisting he was telling the truth. “All right,” said Nancy finally, taking the note pad from her purse. “Suppose you give me your autograph, and write down your address too.”
    The lad gladly did so. Nancy took it and said, “Johnny Barto, some time I will come to your house, and if I find you have been telling the truth, I’ll give you another autograph.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “All right?”
    The boy smiled back, said he was sorry, and shuffled off. Nancy was tempted to follow him, still a bit suspicious that he did know who the purchaser of her signature was. Various thoughts flashed through her mind. Why was the man so eager to obtain the signature? Did he plan to use it in some illegal way?
    She stood lost in