Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings

"I'll tell you about him in a minute. Get along with your story first."

"Not much of a story. I didn't last long enough to make it interesting."

"Tell me about it, anyway."

"Well-I heard you yell and half turned when Tony and another lad jumped me. You know what happened to Tony-"

"Yes, but the shot right afterward? Oh, Bill, I was scared silly they'd killed you! Whose gun was that?"

"Mine. I'd got my gat loose by that time and drilled him through the shoulder. It turned out later that he tripped over a log when he fell, came down with his leg under him and snapped the bone. When I learned the horrid truth, I wept!"

"I'll bet you did! Couldn't you break away then?"

"I could not. Several others had joined the rough-house by that time. For a while-not very long-we played a lively little game of tag, blind-man's-buff, postoffice, dilly-dilly-come-and-be-killed, with me as dilly, until another chap jumped out of a Ford on to the middle of my back and rubbed my face in the cool, wet soil! At that bright moment old Limpy clinched these handcuffs on my wrists and read me a lecture on the error of my ways.

"He's a physician when he isn't bank-robbing, I think. Anyway, the gang call him 'Doctor.' He seems to be running the show. Not such a bad lad if he could be made over again. Tony, you must know, has developed an almost uncontrollable penchant for sheathing his pigsticker in my carcass once more. Strangely enough, I can't see it Tony's way. And fortunately for me, neither can the Doctor! Now, young lady, if you're finished squeezing cold water into my sore eye, I'll sing the doxology!"

Dorothy giggled. "Aren't you funny! I don't believe more than half of that tale is true. I'll wager things were a whole lot worse than you've painted them, sir!"

"Well, you've proved to be a good little guesser quite often-what I'm interested in is what happened to you."

Dorothy told him.

"Nice work!" Bill complimented her as she finished talking. "I know a few jiu jitsu holds, but you must be a wonder at it. It's too bad Staten Island Sadie had to butt in and spoil your show. The more I see of that lady, the less I like her. She was in the woods when the gang jumped us-barged off in a huff later, because the Doc wouldn't let her croak me then and there. She's a nice little playmate. Every one of this gang is a cold-blooded thug-but she's a fiend! But, to tell the honest truth, it's our lame friend who worries me most."

"Yes," agreed Dorothy. "That suave manner of his gives me the creeps!"

"So sorry-" purred the Doctor's voice directly behind them. "But if I were in your position, my young friends, I should undoubtedly be worried, too."

Bill and Dorothy swung round to see him coming toward them. In his hand he carried a small, black bag.

"How is our invalid, nurse?" he inquired, feigning ignorance of their startled surprise, and placing his satchel on the table. "Those who live by the sword-but you are familiar with the quotation, I'm sure?"

Opening the bag, he produced bandages, adhesive tape, a pair of surgical scissors and a large tube of salve.

"Lay these out, so I can reach them easily, please," he ordered as he unwrapped the temporary bandage Dorothy had bound about Bill's leg.

"Ah! I see you have cleansed the wound, but it is safer to be more thorough. Hand me one of the swabs you will find wrapped in cellophane in the bag, please. Strange how the professional spirit will dominate-even though the patient's life may not be a long one!" He glanced smilingly at Dorothy.

"Don't tell me the knife was poisoned?" she cried in horror.

"Hardly anything so melodramatic, my dear. You don't quite grasp my meaning."

"He means," said Bill grimly, "that after he has had the fun of patching me up, I'm to be taken for a ride. But don't let him bluff you. He's only trying to scare us."

"Too much knowledge is dangerous at times-entirely too dangerous," returned the lame man. "Hand me another swab, nurse. But you put it rather crudely, young man-and I am perfectly in earnest, I assure you."

"Oh, you couldn't do that!" Dorothy blenched and her hand shook as she passed him the swab.

"Well, you see, it is not entirely up to me," he replied, carefully cleaning the wound. "The matter of your friend's future, shall I say? – as well as your own, will have to be put to vote presently. Of course, if Miss Martinelli has her way-but why anticipate the unpleasant?"

To Dorothy's surprise, Bill chuckled.

"They hang in this state, for murder," he remarked coolly. "It's a nasty death, I've heard. What's more, Doctor, a man of your mentality does not deliberately stick his head into a noose!"

"Perhaps not, my young friend. But you forget that in order to prove murder, there must be a body-or bodies, as the case may be." The Doctor looked up at Bill and smiled again.

Chapter XV

STATEN ISLAND SADIE HAS HER WAY

"I believe that I have done all that is necessary," said the Doctor after a few minutes-"and I think the patient will be more comfortable now." Then, with a sardonic gleam in his eye, he added, "Also, I have enjoyed our conversation very much!"

He walked to the sink where he washed his hands and dried them carefully on a clean towel.

"And so, if you young people are quite ready, we'll adjourn for that voting contest I mentioned a little while ago."

He motioned them to precede him, and brought up the rear with his bag as Dorothy helped Bill limp into the front room.

Politely, the Doctor placed chairs for them and bade them be seated. Never once had this black-eyed little man's manner betokened anything but courteous consideration. But his suavity troubled Dorothy far more than bluster would have done. She sensed the venom behind his smooth tones, the purring growl of the tiger before it springs.

Dorothy knew she was losing her nerve. But she looked at Bill and smiled bravely as they sat down.

Bill smiled back at her then shifted his glance with hers to the table, where the members of the gang were seated. The little Doctor headed the board, the others at the side facing the room. Next to the lame man sat the red-haired girl; then came Mike, Tony, who was nursing his jaw, Johnny, the man who had fetched the wheelbarrow, and another whom Dorothy had not seen before. Tony, she fancied, had played the part of chauffeur at the bank.

Then Bill broke into the low-voiced conversation that was going on at the table.

"How about unlocking these handcuffs, Doctor?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, my young friend. Even with your honorable wounds of combat, you are far too active for us to take any chances."

"But what could I do? You are six to one, counting Miss Martinelli-and all armed," insisted Bill. "These things are darned uncomfortable."

Tony shot him a deadly glance. "I'm glad to hear it," he muttered through clenched teeth. "You'll be a lot more uncomfortable by the time I finish with you."

"Shut up, you two!" snapped Sadie. "Now, Dad," she went on in a different tone, addressing the Doctor, "let's finish this business. We can't sit here gabbing all night."

"That's what I say!" This from Johnny. "Bump off the pair of 'em-they know too much. Then we can divvy up and be on our way!"

"You forget that it is our custom to put such matters to vote," interposed the Doctor. "Two of our company are upstairs and unable to attend. Also, another member is expected at any time now. Without his help our little coup would have been extremely difficult."

"Chuck and Pete are too ill to vote," argued Miss Martinelli. "As for Perkins-that sap is scared to death! I doubt if he shows up at all."

"Oh, he wants his share," declared the Doctor. "He'll come. We shall give him five minutes-and then continue our business."

He tapped a cigarette on the back of his gold case, struck a match and lounged back in his chair, inhaling the aromatic smoke with evident enjoyment.

Dorothy's eyes met Bill's in astonishment.