Inspector Rumblepants and the Case of the Golden Haggis Read Online Free PDF

ourselves in the Tower of London as prisoners of Queen Victoria,” he warned sternly.
    The Count nodded in agreement. “I have one of my men working inside of the Scottish police headquarters, who will tell me if there is any danger,” he assured the Prince.
    The Count held up his strange device. The orange, lumpy liquid sloshed around in the glass bottle stuck on top of the device. “I also have my Fart-urator gun, and my gypsies can easily overcome any people who stand in their way!”
    The Prince looked at the strange device in wonder. “And what, pray tell, does it do?” he asked the Count, mystified.
    The Count grinned, showing his yellow, crooked teeth. “If you get a splish of my secret ingredient on you, it makes even the toughest of men run for the toilet.”
    The Prince stepped back and stared at the weapon in awe.
    â€œThat weapon could be used to conquer the world,” he exclaimed. “How many do ye have of those guns?” he asked.
    The Count chuckled. “This is the prototype; however, I am secretly making hundreds in a castle. We can arm the whole of the Scottish Army. The dastardly English will not know what to do or where to run, other than to the bathroom.”
    The Scottish Prince looked pleased. “At last, we will beat the English and teach them a lesson, while also making them look rather silly at the same time!” he laughed.
    Both men started to laugh together conspiratorially. They shook hands in parting. “We will meet again in two weeks, my Count. Soon the whole of Great Britain will be ours,” roared the Scottish Prince, before nervously looking around again to see if anyone had heard him.
    â€œI really should stop shouting things like that,” muttered the Prince. “I am going to get meself in trouble again!”
    The Count smiled and climbed on his pony. “Ho, eh, ho,” he giggled. “Nothing will stop me now.”

Chapter 5
    The Train to Stirling Castle
    W aterloo Station in London was filled with the noisy chatter of people laughing and shouting in many different languages. The people’s noises mingled with the bleating coos of hundreds of pigeons, fluttering high above the crowds of people. The birds nested in the rust-stained iron rafters. The air was filled with strange smells, such as smoke and soot from the train’s steam engines. Feathers, as well as less pleasant things, drifted down from the skylights.
    Men stacked piles of luggage and large wooden crates on crowded trains that puffed steam and soot. Uniformed train conductors in crisp blue uniforms with gold braids and small round caps stood beside the open train doors, helping people with their luggage or pointing out which train or compartment the passengers should head for.
    On one huge wall, men scrambled along scaffolding. They put large letters into long metal slots. These wooden, white-painted letters informed people on which platform to find their train and when the trains would leave. Whistles blew constantly, and a steady stream of trains chugged and clattered in and out of the station, hissing explosively as they shunted to a stop. Each train was painted a different color.
    The train drivers leaned against their trains. Because they worked shoveling coal into the engine furnaces, their faces and hands were black. They stood with fatherly pride next to their trains, puffing on long, wooden pipes. Small boys scampered among the crowd, their notebooks full of train names and numbers that they collected as a hobby.
    Slowly working their way through the crowd, Inspector Rumblepants and Sergeant Widebottom each carried a brown leather, police-issued suitcase in which they had packed clothes for their trip. Sergeant Widebottom also took a black case that contained the latest in police investigation equipment. They could use the equipment to look for clues at the crime scene.
    Looking up at the information board, they spotted which platform