The log cabin Democrat., 1921-05-03
An "Ad" Almost Brought Disaster
 By MURIEL BLAIR.
09. ls2l. Western Newspaper Union.l

HIS nat tlIeal ile piuuSeu lOT Ills NIle "Good-by, dearest he said, clasping her as tightly as he could, considering that he was holding a derby and bag full of office papers. T must catch that S:27"
 "Good-by, John," said Mary Benton, kissing him fondly. "I do wish you didn't have to hurry away to that old office she added, pouting.
 Tt won't be for long," said her hus- band. If our great new advertising scheme goes through we'll flood the country with notices of our new pat ent. Everybody will read them. It's my own idea. Cant stop to tell you now. Good-by" And, with hurried final kiss, he was through the door and hastening toward the station.
 Mary sighed a little-then smiled. She and John had been married only six months and they were very fond of each other.
 She put away the breakfast things; then, still smiling at the thought of her husbands haste. she went into lIit IIbtIt IOOII Ill W llltIi Ilt NOIhtQ Ut nights upon the new advertising plan. A piece of paper lay in one corner; 1t had evidently tluttered out of his desk and fallen there. unnoticed. She picked it up and, glancing at it, felt her heart throb painfully. She could hardly read the words that danced before her eyes
 It was love letter and it began: My dearest, sweetest Jack" It was pewritten-evidently that the writer might remain immune against discov- cry, and for the same reason 1t was signed Bunny" And 1t was just the sort of foolish mixture of prattle and endearment that an ignorant young girl would write.
 Worst of all. 1t was headed 2247 Andover street-her husbands busi. ness address.
 She tried to read 1t. but the mixture of shop talk and loving phrases was too nauseating. Mingled with allu- sions to business aHairs were refer ences to somebody who must be Kept in the dark"-herself. doubtless. And "Jack" had taken her out to dinner on the Dth-that was the evening when he did not come home till eleven. "Jack" had given her a ring. Jack" was her everlasting sweetheart.
 Mary Benton had the quick temper which accompanies many lovable m. lures. She flung the letter into a cor nef and packed her bag. She was de teYmined to 90 home to her mother. She would leave no message-merely the letter on the table She picked 1t up and smoothed out the wrinkles. Then. at the door. she reflected. No, she would go down to the office and confront them-John and his absurd stenographer. Then at last she com posed herself. dabbed some cologne upon her eyes, put the letter in her bag and started downtown. She would be very quiet and very calm and give the woman no occasion eo triumph over her She would request few moments of Johns time. would walk in, lay down the letter, ask him If he had anything to say. and then go home. She would never return-nev- CT. By this time she had begun to cry again.
 She went down on a car and en. tered the dreary office building When she went in she saw the same office boy and bookkeeper; but there was a new stenographer. a little, fluffy haired thing, who chewed gum brazen- ly. Her heart sank Was 1t possible that John was attracted by that crea- ture?
 "Why, Mary" John was at the door, looking at her with a puzzled expression. He was holding her hands Mary. Whats wrong dearT
 She could not help her tears. "Send that-woman away" she said in a fal- withdrew softly, smiling a little She had seen mems wives go to their hus- bands offices before. Mary Benton en- tered, put down her bag and, standing like a recording angel, flung down the letter silently. John Benton read 1t ulIu SuuutillS began lO lduSl upIOdT- iouSly.
 "John, You are laughing" ex- claimed his wife.
 Read it aloud, my dear" her hus- band answered. "So you thought you thought"
 "John, what do you mean? Can you offer any excuse at all? What is it?"
 John Benton read solemnly:
 "My dearest, sweetest Jack-When are you going to take me out to din her again, as you did on the 29th. sweetheart? I miss you every hour of the day-more than I miss ITairoff, | the new patent scissors for cutting your own hair. When I see my broth CTS Hairoff think of your own dark, | lustrous locks. T."
 "Oh, pshaw" said John, throwing the letter down. That's a mimeo,