As a rookie in the Atlantic City，N．J．，Police department，I was assigned a beat on the boardwalk．Hardly a day went by when I didn’t come upon a child who had become sepa．rated from his parents．<br> One aflemoon，I spotted a small boy standing alone，obviously lost．I tried to gain hisconfidence-I took him to the nearest ice．cream smnd and bought him a cone．Timepassed with no sign of the boy’s parents，so the next step was to call for a patrol car to takehim to headquarters．I told the small fry to stay put while I went to the call box．When Ireturned，he was nowhere in sight．<br> Within minutes，the car arrived，and one of the patrohnen asked me where the childwas．I felt stupid；it’s humiliating to say you’ve lost a lost child．But I told the officers whathad happened and gave a description of the boy．”What did you treat him?”asked one ofthe men，”An ice-cream cone．Why?…Because，”answered the officer，”that kid lives onlya few blocks from here．and you’ve about the fifth rookie he’s conned for a treat!”
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