To remove ordinary ugly surface stains from teeth, brush upward down from the gum line to the biting edge, and use collinose toothpaste on dry brush. Try collinose. Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons, is on the air. Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons, one of the most famous characters of American fiction, is now presented in one of radio's most thrilling dramas. Tonight, Mr. Keen begins the case of the young husband who thought his wife failed him. If you want a wonderfully easy way to remove ordinary surface stains from your teeth to reveal the natural color hidden underneath, please listen carefully. Thousands today have discovered two simple steps that bring results amazingly fast. First, brush your teeth as your own dentist advises. That is, upward down from the gum line to the biting edge. Second, use collinose toothpaste, the dentiface used on a dry brush instead of a wet one, that acts on these ugly surface stains like a jeweler's polish acts on tarnished silver. You can see the thrilling results after just a few brushings. So try this way, proper brushing plus collinose toothpaste if you want your teeth to look their best. Collinose, K-O-L-Y-N-O-S, is on sale at all drugstores. Try it now. And now for Mr. Keen. Last time, Mr. Keen went in search of Anthony Valla, a once brilliant concert pianist who ten years ago, when his wife died during a concert, gave up his career and dropped completely out of sight. The tracer found him, plying his father's trade of carpenter in a small midwestern town, and gave him a new outlook on life, which assured his return to music and his future happiness with a nice girl who loved him. Now it's several weeks later, and a client has just left the tracer's private office by the door leading directly to the corridor. Mr. Keen rings for his Spencer secretary, Miss Ellis. Listen. Yes, Mr. Keen? Oh, Miss Ellis, Mrs. Leroy just left. Here's a check made out of Keen and Company for finding her long-lost sister. I've endorsed it, and you can send it to the Sunnyfield orphanage. Yes, sir. Your next appointment's waiting, that Mr. Donald Craigie from the insurance company. Very well. He can come in now. All right. Hello? Susie? Mr. Keen will see Mr. Craigie. Now, now look, Mr. Keen, before he gets into your office, I just want to warn you. He says he has a case for you, but I know insurance men. And once he's in here, he'll try to sell you a million dollar policy so you just be firm. I hardly imagine the interview will go like that, Miss Ellis. Susie. I'm already insured of Mr. Craigie's company, and he knows it. That's how he happened to hear about me. So let's take him on faith, at least until we get acquainted with him, shall we? Well, all right, but there he is. I hear him outside. I'll get him. Mr. Craigie? Yes? Right this way, please. Oh, thanks. Lovely day, isn't it? Yes. Yes, it is. Makes me feel as if I'm going to live in excellent health for a long time. Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Keen. Thanks for letting me come. Not at all, Mr. Craigie. Sit down and tell me what's troubling you. I'll be glad to. What was that crack your secretary made about living a long time? Oh, perhaps she thought you were trying to sell her insurance when you spoke to her pleasantly. I always speak pleasantly to people, but I'm not here to sell insurance, Mr. Keen. As I wrote you when I asked for this appointment, I'm in great need of finding somebody who went away six months ago. And who is that? My wife. I see. She left you, Mr. Craigie? She walked out on me, bag in baggage. And you want her back? No, I'm afraid that's all washed up. But she hasn't filed a suit for divorce. And I want her located so that I can ask her to divorce me. That means you'd like to marry someone else? Yes, I would. It sounds pretty heartless to sit here and say it, Mr. Keen, but it's not really. Sheila could have had me for life as she'd wanted to. Why did she leave you then? Because I've made a success. And there are some women who can't stand their husbands' successes, can't keep up with them. Do you understand that? I've often heard of such cases, Mr. Craigie, but she... I won't say that Sheila wasn't wonderful in the old days. She was, and I loved her for it. But as I got on, she changed. Generally in cases like this, it's the man who changes. He moves in an ever-widening circle of acquaintances. His outlook broadens. Hers remains the same. But that's exactly what happened to us, Mr. Keen. Yes, and then the husband begins to feel that he's far ahead of his wife. I did feel that. I couldn't help it. But I never told her so. But you fell in love with another woman. A woman with a kind of background you've now achieved for yourself. A woman better suited to fit into your present mode of life? No. Not till after Sheila left me. I knew Rosalind before that. Sheila knew her, too. But Rosalind Prescott was no more than a friend until my wife walked out on me and I was sunk. I see. Rosalind has a good time. She's beautiful and gay and popular. She's been awfully nice to me since Sheila left me. Rosalind Prescott. She writes magazine stories, doesn't she? Yes, Mr. Keen. She's very good at it. She's wonderful. And she's willing to marry me if I can just find Sheila and get this divorce business over with. And you have no idea where your wife is? None. I know she didn't go back to the little town we both come from, but because my parents still live there and they write me that no one in town has seen her or heard from her. What about your wife's parents? They died when Sheila was a child. Neighbors took her in and brought her up. She has no relatives of her own anywhere. That makes it difficult. What about friends? There must be someone who knows where she is. I doubt it. Her friends back home keep asking my folks if there's any news of her. And there's a young married woman here in New York, Mr. Keen. A girl from our town, too. Dorothy Beecroft. Mrs. Ted Beecroft, who went to school with Sheila. But I wrote Dorothy and she wrote back saying she had no idea where Sheila was. You wrote her, Mr. Craigie? Someone here in New York? Why didn't you go to see her? She's no friend of mine, I'm afraid. And from her own point of view, of course, she's justified. I see that. But, well, you'd have to hear my whole story to understand. I want to hear your whole story. Suppose you tell it to me now, from the beginning. All right, Mr. Keen. The place I come from is very small, but it rates as a city. My father's been mayor for years. We were never wealthy, but we were a nice, good family. I went to school in town, public school. There wasn't any other. Was it in school you met the girl you later married, Mr. Craigie? I knew her in a vague way, but not well. After I left school, I got to know her better. You see, Mr. Keen, I always found it easy to sell things to people, even when I was a boy. It was just the same in college. And when I graduated, I went back home and got a job because of it. Selling insurance? Yes, in the local agency. That's where I really met Sheila. She was through school by then and was working as a secretary for Mr. Phillips. Your new boss, eh? Yes. He was nice, but with no ambition at all. He used to sit around the office and wait for policies to fall into his lap. I went out and sold policies, lots of them. The business grew so, Mr. Keen, that it came to the attention of one of the big insurance companies Mr. Phillips represented. And they sent for me. I see. And that's how you came to New York in your present job. Did you marry before you came? Yes. Sheila and I were in love by then. And she'd always been such a help. I thought she always would be. How could I know she was just a small town girl with small town ideas that were never going to change? Ideas about what, Mr. Craky? Oh, you know, working hard and saving for a rainy day. She never could see that in New York, that's no way to get ahead. Isn't it? Of course not. You get ahead by making contacts, Mr. Keen. Important friends who introduce you to people with money to invest. And you can't make that sort of friends unless you seem their own kind and live the same way they do. I see. So you began to practice that. I had to. And it worked. I started on a small salary and small commissions. Now I'm making big ones. Sheila and I started our married life in a little flat. And now I live in a penthouse. And I have a place in Connecticut for summer weekends. It sounds tremendously pleasant, Mr. Craky. Why did your wife object? Because she wanted to live in two rooms and do her own housework and have a baby and take care of it herself. The typical life of a small town girl. She wanted a savings bank account for the baby's future. She couldn't see that the money I spent getting ahead was a better investment for the baby's future than a few dollars set aside each week. So there isn't any savings account and there isn't any baby? No. Sheila wanted the wrong kind of friends too. Friends like Dorothy Beecroft. Narrow and stupid and unattractive. I had an awful time making her see that. Just because you go to school with a girl, you don't have to keep up the friendship afterwards. So that's why young Mrs. Beecroft doesn't like you, Mr. Craky. Yes, I'm afraid so, Mr. Keen. And I'm sorry in a way. I don't want to have enemies, even frightfully unimportant ones. But we couldn't have people like that underfoot. They didn't speak our language. I see. So you finally persuaded your wife to drop them. But after she left you, you thought she might have been in touch with them? It occurred to me. So I wrote as I told you, but they hadn't heard from her. Apparently no one has. So it's up to you to find her, Mr. Keen. And you will, won't you? I'll do what I can, Mr. Craky. What's your wife's maiden name? Lord. Sheila Lord. And here is a photograph of her. She's pretty. Yes, she's very beautiful. All right, thank you. I'll begin to investigate it once. I might, by the way, have to cover some of the same ground you covered. So you better tell me the name of your hometown. Aberdeen, Vermont. But you'll just be wasting your time if you go there. I think so too. But I never start a case without all the facts available. What's the address of the Beecrofts here in New York? I'm sorry, I don't remember. But it's in the telephone book. His name's Theodore. Very well. I won't keep you any longer now, Mr. Craky. But I'll let you hear from me about my progress. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I know you're wonderful. If anyone can find her, you can. And do try, Mr. Keen. I want my freedom. Goodbye. Goodbye. Oh, Miss Ellis, will you come in now, please? Certainly, Mr. Keen. Goodbye, Mr. Craky. Goodbye, Miss Ellis. I still think it's a lovely day. Where? Where's all the... Mr. Keen, was I right about him? Did he come here under false colors? Under false colors? No, Miss Ellis, not exactly. He wasn't selling insurance, and he was perfectly sincere in everything he told me. He wants me to find his wife, who left him six months ago, without provocation. He honestly believes it was without provocation. He wants a divorce from her, and he thinks he's justified in getting one, because she refused to keep step with him as he rose in the world. I see. Perhaps he's right. But somehow I'd like to hear her side of the story, too. Yes. For it may be quite different from his. So let's start looking for her. Will you get me the address of a Theodore Beecroft from the telephone book? Why does Mr. Keen want the Beecroft's address? Does he believe they were lying to Donald Craky? Where is Sheila Craky? Listen next Tuesday at this same time, as the tracer goes a long way toward the solution of the pathetic case of the young husband who thought his wife failed him. No matter how much confidence you may have in your present dentifrice, if you don't know all about it, see your own dentist without delay. Ask him to recommend a dentifrice he knows is pure, effective, and most important, safe to give your family. Chances are he'll suggest Colleynose toothpaste, for Colleynose has been awarded the seal of acceptance of the American Dental Association's Council on Dental Therapeutics, an unbiased scientific body representing over 43,000 practicing dentists. Your own dentist will tell you this seal of acceptance is the highest, the most important honor any dentifrice can have. It means that Colleynose has been tested for polishing power, for purity, and for safety, and that on the basis of actual evidence has been awarded this prize seal of acceptance. Now, there's a sound reason for this success. You see, Colleynose is the formula of a famous specialist who developed in Colleynose what he considered the perfect dentifrice, the kind he would want his own patients to use. So it was only natural that Colleynose should gain the recognition of other practicing dentists. So remember this fact the next time you buy, and ask for Colleynose, recognized by many dentists as a pure, effective, and safe dentifrice for you and your family to use. Remember the name, Colleynose, spelled K-O-L-Y-N-O-S. Get a tube at your druggist tonight. Mr. Keene, tracer of lost persons, will be on the air next Tuesday at this same time. This is James Fleming speaking. Relieve acid stomach upsets quickly with Bisodol, B-I-S-O-D-O-L. Its pleasant tasting acts fast. Get Bisodol for only 25 cents at your druggist's tonight. This is the National Broadcasting Company.
