“Oh, quit your joking!” cried Don, jumping up. “Let’s go over to Hampton and bother Dave.”
So they struggled into their sweaters and went. The sound of hammering and shouting aroused their curiosity, and they made a detour to the front of Academy Building to learn the meaning of the noise. A group of workmen were putting the finishing touches on the new flagstaff, and already it reared its length aloft on the edge of the bluff, the glistening gold ball at the top of the slender mast shining bright against the gray sky.
“Phew!” exclaimed Don. “She’s a tall old stick, isn’t she? Must be a good fifty feet, eh?”
“Worse than that,” answered Wayne. “I should say about sixty.”
“Maybe. I wonder if they’ll get a new flag. The old one’s pretty well worn out.”
“Say, Don,” Wayne suggested as they hurried on toward Hampton House with their ears tingling, “wouldn’t it be a grand joke to run a flag up there to-night ourselves? Think how surprised ‘Wheels’ would be in the morning!”
“By Jove! Great scheme. Come on; let’s tell Paddy and Dave.”
Those young gentlemen hailed the idea with glee, and called Wayne a public benefactor and many other flattering things. The fact was, life had been deadly dull of late, and the continued indoor existence was beginning to affect their spirits. The idea of having a flag raising of their own appeared illumined with brilliance, and the quartet at once began arrangements.
“But we haven’t a flag,” objected Dave.
“Let’s make one. It ought to be something more startling than the Stars and Stripes,” said Paddy. “I wish we had a class flag. I tell you, fellows, let’s run up a skull and crossbones!”