Shifting the Responsibility On her pillow that night before dropping to almost instantaneous sleep Linda reflected that if you could not ride the King's Highway, racing the sands of Santa Monica was a very excellent substitute. It had been a wonderful day after all. When she had left Donald at the Lilac Valley end of the car line he had held her hand tight an instant and looked into her face with the most engaging of clear, boyish smiles. "Linda, isn't our friendship the nicest thing that ever happened to us?" he demanded. "Yes," answered Linda promptly, "quite the nicest. Make your plans for all day long next Saturday." "I'll be here before the birds are awake," promised Donald. At the close of Monday's sessions, going down the broad walk from the high school, Donald overtook Linda a

