Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings. Wayne Dorothy

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      Bill had the car in the road now and was racing toward the village.

      "First National-Main Street, next the Town Hall. I'm president, you know."

      "I didn't know. But I'm glad to hear it."

      "How's that?"

      "You should have a drag with the traffic cops. We are doing an even sixty now-and it would be a bad time to get a ticket."

      Mr. Dixon grasped the door-handle as Bill skidded them into a cross road with the expertness of a racing driver. "Just get us there, that's all," he gasped. "The chief himself phoned me. I didn't wait to hear details-but from what I gathered, the hold up men got clean away before the police discovered the robbery. But time is always a factor in a case of this kind, so don't worry about traffic rules."

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