Gradually, like many others of its kind, Boxwood Hall broadened, and became a college in which the divinity side was less and less emphasized each year, though the institution still conferred the degree of Doctor of Divinity upon those who wished it, and who passed the necessary tests.
So it was that the faculty of the college revered the picture of the founder, even though the boys did not. For, of course, none of the present undergraduates had known the Rev. Dr. Ebenezer Boxwood.
“Now hustle!” advised Jerry, when the picture was safely down. “Put back the chairs, and we’ll cut out of here.”
This was soon done, and, with the picture covered with the black robe, the conspirators, first looking about to make sure they were unobserved, sneaked out the side door, and made their way toward the flagpole.
Here was where the greatest danger of detection lay, for they were out in the open, and though the flagpole was not near any of the buildings it was in a conspicuous place on the campus, and the boys might be observed by some passing professor.
However, luck seemed to be with them, and [they] quickly [made the flag halyards fast to the picture and hoisted it up] to the top of the pole, making sure the fastenings were secure so the portrait would not fall.
[THEY MADE THE FLAG HALYARDS FAST TO THE PICTURE AND HOISTED IT UP.]
“Well, I guess that’s some nifty little trick,” chuckled Jerry, as they hurried back to their rooms.
“It’ll make ’em sit up and have gravy on their eggs all right,” added Ned.