"By the way," said McGuire Ellis, "how do you like the paper?" Sooner or later he put this question to every one with whom he came in contact. What he found out in this way helped to make him the journalistic expert he was.
"Pretty well," hesitated the other.
"What's wrong with it?" inquired Ellis.
"Well, frankly, some of your advertising."
"We're the most independent paper in this town on advertising," stated Ellis with conviction.
"I know you dropped the Sewing Aid Society advertisement," admitted Hale. "But you've got others as bad. Yes, worse."
"Show 'em to me."
Leaning forward to the paper on Ellis's desk, the visitor indicated the "copy" of Relief Pills. Ellis's brow puckered.
"You're the second man to kick on that," he said. "The other was a doctor."
"It's a bad business, Mr. Ellis. It's the devil's own work. Isn't it hard enough for girls to keep straight, with all the temptations around them, without promising them immunity from the natural results of immorality?"