Jenkins, a newly wedded suburbanite, kissed his wife goodby the other morning, and, telling her he would be home at six o'clock that evening, got into his auto and started for town.
At six o'clock no hubby had appeared, and the little wife began to get nervous. When the hour of midnight arrived she could bear the suspense no longer, so she aroused her father and sent him off to the telegraph office with six telegrams to as many brother Elks living in town, asking each if her husband was stopping with him overnight.
Morning came, and the frantic wife had received no intelligence of the missing man. As dawn appeared, a farm wagon containing a farmer and the derelict husband drove up to the house, while behind the wagon trailed the broken-down auto. Almost simultaneously came a messenger boy with an answer to one of the telegrams, followed at intervals by five others. All of them read:
"Yes, John is spending the night with me."—Bush Phillips.
BOY—"Come quick, there's a man been fighting my father more'n half an hour."
POLICEMAN—"Why didn't you tell me before?"
BOY—"'Cause father was getting the best of it till a few minutes ago."