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

they needed. They headed for their train, now weaving as quickly as possible through the bustling crowds. Climbing through the door of the first-class carriage compartment, they put their leather suitcases in the overhead storage racks and sat back in the leather-bound chairs.
    Sergeant Widebottom, still clutching the black case borrowed from the police headquarters, cleared his throat. “So this Golden Haggis that’s been stolen,” he started.
    â€œShh!” Rumblepants admonished. “Good Lord, man! It’s a top-secret case. Even Inspector Nailard is being kept informed about it, so that’s how secret it is! Wait until I close the compartment door so that no one will overhear us.” He got up and firmly closed the door to their carriage.
    Sergeant Widebottom waited until the door was closed and then leaned forward as Rumblepants sat back down again. “This Golden Haggis,” he whispered, “what actually is it?”
    Inspector Rumblepants leaned forward so that his mouth was almost next to Sergeant Widebottom’s ear. “I didn’t have much time to research it properly, I have to admit,” he whispered back. “But I did speak to Old Jock, from the Stolen Bike Department, before we left. He told me that Tiny McFarlane, from the Missing Purse Division, said that the Golden Haggis is from Scotland. Tiny claims a Haggis is a small Scottish animal, about the size of a small dog, that only lives in the highest mountains of Scotland.”
    He started to sit back in his seat before he remembered something else to say. He leaned forward again. “Apparently, the Haggis’s left legs are shorter than their right ones so that they can more easily travel around a hill.”
    He frowned as he thought about what he had been told. “It sounds very strange. It didn’t seem to make any sense at the time. Old Jock also said that Tiny claims the Haggis tend to roll downhill if they try to travel in the wrong direction, which is why they are so rare.”
    â€œSo someone,” Widebottom surmised, “has stolen an odd, rare, Scottish dog-like animal with funny legs and a tendency to fall down hills.” Sergeant Widebottom looked confused.
    â€œApparently so,” agreed Inspector Rumblepants, scratching his head in a puzzled manner. “The Scottish are a strange bunch,” he added, looking out the window at the passengers boarding other trains.
    A knocking sound interrupted their conversation, so they looked up at the compartment’s glass door. A grey-haired old lady, pushing a squeaky tea trolley, smiled at them.
    â€œWould you boys like a cup of tea and some biscuits for the trip?” she asked as the Inspector slid open the door.
    The Inspector looked at the assortment of biscuits and cakes hungrily. “Yes, please. Can I get a slice of carrot cake and a cup of tea?” he asked, handing over a shilling to the old lady.
    He turned to ask Sergeant Widebottom whether he was hungry, only to find the Sergeant already eating the biggest sandwich he had ever seen, with a large slice of cake on a handkerchief on the chair next to him. Further, he had a steaming flask of coffee.
    The Sergeant smiled as crumbs fell from his mouth. “Your mum packed me some grub for our trip,” he explained.
    Inspector Rumblepants shook his head, amazed. “She told me that she had no food left in the cupboard, and she gave me a shilling for the trip to Dundee,” grumbled the Inspector.
    Sergeant Widebottom held up a half-eaten sandwich. “You can have some of mine, Sir,” he offered. He reached for a large thermos of tea that Inspector Rumblepants’s mother had given him.
    â€œHey, that’s my thermos!” sputtered the Inspector, shocked. “I was looking for that everywhere,” he added.
    Sergeant Widebottom held up his mug of steaming tea, bits of sandwich floating on the surface. “We can share, if you like,” he