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across the platform.
    The first passenger to step down was Diane Dight. As Nancy went toward the girl, her heart beat faster.
    Was her plan going to work?

CHAPTER VI
    Nancy’s Ruse
     
     
     
    “HELLO, Diane!”
    The Dight girl looked up, startled, and barely acknowledged the greeting.
    “I have a message for you,” Nancy said.
    “For me? What is it?” Diane questioned apprehensively.
    “Madame Paray asked me to tell you that your dress is not ready.”
    “Oh!” Diane relaxed. Then her eyes snapped. “That woman makes me tired. I wouldn’t go to her any more, except that she does make attractive clothes.”
    “You always look stunning, Diane,” said Nancy.
    For the first time Diane seemed to take note of what Nancy was wearing. “I like the dress you have on. Did you have it made?”
    “Yes, I did,” Nancy replied lightly, stifling a desire to smile. She was thinking how pleased Hannah Gruen would be to hear her handiwork so highly praised. Aloud she said, “I’ll be glad to drive you, Diane. Let me help you with your suitcase.”
    Diane protested, but Nancy merely smiled. She took the bag and went to her car. Diane began complaining about the fact that there were never any porters around and that the family chauffeur was on vacation. When they got into the car, Nancy turned in the direction opposite the one to the Dight residence.
    “You’re going the wrong way!” Diane cried indignantly.
    Nancy quickly interjected, “I just recalled that your father wants to see you at his factory right away. Madame Paray asked me to give you that message also.”
    Nancy kept going until she reached a cluster of brick buildings. There Diane said good-by, adding that she would take a taxi home. But Nancy was not to be put off so easily.
    “Oh, I don’t mind waiting,” she insisted. “I have nothing else to do at the moment.”
    Before Diane had a chance to object, Nancy was out of the car and walking into the building with her. Out of politeness Diane was forced to introduce her to Mr. Dight’s secretary.
    “I don’t know how long I’ll be with my father,” Diane told Nancy. She added curtly, “Please don’t bother to wait.”
    After she had disappeared into the inner office, Nancy smiled at Miss Jones, the secretary.
    “This must be a fascinating place to work,” she said. “Do you know all about the process of making synthetic material?”
    “I know a good deal, but far from everything,” the young woman replied pleasantly.
    “I’d love to go through the plant sometime. Do you suppose Diane would take me?” Nancy inquired.
    Miss Jones smiled. “She doesn’t seem to be interested in her father’s business. If you would like to take a quick look, I’ll show you what I can. Of course many of the processes used here are kept secret. Some I don’t even know myself.”
    Nancy’s pulse leaped. She could hardly wait to start her trip through the factory, but she tried to appear calm.
    “That’s sweet of you, Miss Jones,” she said. “If you really can spare the time, I’d love to look around.”
    “As a rule, visitors are not permitted, but since you’re a friend of Miss Dight”—here she appraised Nancy’s dress with a complimentary look —“I’ll be glad to take you through.”
    As she and Miss Jones walked along the halls and up and down flights of stairs, the secretary explained the rudiments of the making of synthetic cloth.
    “It seems like magic,” she said “that coal and oil can be turned into lovely soft materials so quickly. At other factories oil and coal are made into colorless chemicals which we buy. Then they are put into tanks like the one you see over there and churned with chemical compounds for several hours.”
    “Is the result raw fiber solutions?” Nancy asked.
    “Yes. Each is given a different trade name depending on mixture and composition.”
    “Nothing secret about that,” thought Nancy.
    As Miss Jones led her farther into the plant, Nancy kept her eyes