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man’s voice seemed far away as Nancy recalled the thrilling tales she had read of the exotic country. Here, unbelievably, was not only her chance to visit it but also to trace the mysterious sender of the prayer rug!
    “Miss Drew, are you there?” Mr. Simpson said after a few moments of silence.
    “Oh yes,” Nancy answered. “I’m sorry. My mind is, I’m afraid, already in Istanbul.”
    “Then you should make the trip,” was the good-natured reply.
    Nancy laughed and said she would first have to discuss it with her father. She wrote down the address and telephone number of the travel agency, then hung up.
    As she showered and washed her hair, Nancy’s imagination took her to the Middle East and back several times. Suddenly she laughed, realizing she had been so busy thinking she had actually given herself three shampoos! Finally, however, the young detective finished her shower and got dressed.
    “I almost forgot that the first thing to do is to find the mannequin,” Nancy thought. “Farouk didn’t ask Dad to come to Turkey to see him. He asked him to bring the figure that used to sit in his window.”
    As she pondered the situation, Nancy went to the kitchen to start dinner preparations. Mrs. Gruen, a methodical person, always wrote down what the dinner menu would be.
    Nancy looked on the pad and murmured, “Cream of mushroom soup, lamb chops, french fries, peas, chocolate pie.” At the bottom of the sheet was a notation: tomato salad and special dressing.
    “I guess I’ll begin on the salad,” Nancy thought.
    She found three plump ripe tomatoes in the refrigerator, which she skinned and sliced. Just as she was arranging them on beds of lettuce, Hannah Gruen arrived.
    “Hello, Nancy,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here to help. It’s difficult for me with this sore finger to cut things.”
    A few minutes later Mr. Drew let himself in through the front door and came directly to the kitchen.
    “Oh. Dad, I have so much to tell you and Hannah,” Nancy said.
    “Can you please wait until I have something to eat?” he asked, grinning. “I’m so starved I couldn’t stand any shock.”
    Within twenty minutes the family was seated at the table and Nancy began her story. Hannah and Mr. Drew were intrigued, especially by the travel agency’s trip to Turkey. As soon as dessert had been served, Nancy excused herself from the table.
    “I have something to show you both,” she said mysteriously and went up to her room.
    “Oh no!” she gasped, stepping inside. “Togo, how on earth—?”
    The little dog, perking up his ears, looked at his mistress. Dangling from his mouth was a curled-toed slipper! The paper in which the pair of slippers had been wrapped was in shreds and strewn across the floor.
    “You naughty dog!” she scolded and he dropped the slipper.
    Quickly Nancy picked up the mate and gathered the scraps of paper. Neither slipper had been damaged and with a sigh of relief Nancy returned to the dinner table carrying them,
    “Bess and George and I are sure these were worn by the mannequin,” she said.
    Mr. Drew looked at the slippers closely, turned them over, then went off for a magnifying glass.
    “These shoes have been walked in,” he declared. “Not much, though.”
    Hannah Gruen spoke up. “Maybe the mannequin was too heavy for Farouk to carry and he shoved her along the floor.”
    “If he did that,” said Mr. Drew, “it means that he must have taken her in and out of the window. But why?”
    The housekeeper had a practical answer. “Perhaps to change the costume or to clean the one she wore.”
    The lawyer nodded. “That’s a very good guess. You’re probably right.”
    The idea of the mannequin being moved in and out of the window intrigued Nancy. She decided that the following day she would ask shopkeepers and residents of Satcher Street what they knew about it.

CHAPTER VII
    Sly Suspect
    AFTER dinner Mr. Drew called the police depart ment to inquire if they had learned