Judge — July 17, 1926 — page 26: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUDGE “Blonde or brunette?” questioned O'Malley. “I want a policeman,” persisted Ambrose. “For how long and what purpose?” questioned headquarters. “T've been robbed,” wailed That- cher. “I want a policeman to catch w the thieves and recover my prop- erty.” “Sorry!” shouted O'Malley. “We can't let any of the boys go out to strange houses after dark. We had some trouble along those lines a year or two ago and the Commissioner thinks it best that none of the boys. go out alone after five o'clock. Be- sides, the glee club and the police band are practicing to-night and we can’t spare a single man. Give us a ring some other time.” Ambrose ran five blocks and reached a police booth. Four sturdy patrolmen we ing poker. started Ambrose. No one paid any attention to him. “I wa man!” shouted Ambrose, flourishing a tax receipt. seated therein, 5 xcuse me, boys,” 1 police- “If you'll drink your milk and go to bed every night at six o'clock, we'll buy you a nice set of electric trains,” ai wered one of the officers. “But I've got electric trains.” wailed Ambrose, running off. “I want a policeman.” Five blocks away he encountered a motorcycle patrolman, examining a puncture in the rear tire of his machine. AnENoBARBUS—IWho was that gentleman I seen you with yesterday morning? Tuais—That wasn't no gentleman; that was a—man (Ep. Note.—Fill in your own college) “T Want a Policeman” um A MBROBE W. Tuatcuer, a look of horror on his countenance, stood | in the doorway of his Flatbush bung- | galow. Thieves, intruders and, for | all he knew, murderers had been ran- sacking his habitation. He reached for the telephone book. There, on | the cover, in plain letters, he read: “In an emergency, to “get a pol | man, just say to the operator: ‘I want a policeman.’ ” Ambrose slowly lifted the receiver. “Numberpleaze? “I want a policeman,” said Am- brose. There were five or six staccato clicks and a deep, bass voice thun- dered: “Police headquarters—O’Mal- ley of the mounted speaking.” “T want a policeman,” said brose. Am- comicbooks.com