“The gates will be locked,” said Alf, “and even if they weren’t, the gardener might see us. We’d better shin over here, by this post, and keep along the shrubbery until we reach the buildings. Then we’ll have to come out in plain sight; but I guess no one will be up at this time of night.”
“How about getting back?” asked Tom. “Suppose some one gets after us?”
“Scatter and make for the side fence here,” answered Alf, promptly. “If we aren’t disturbed we’ll retreat in good order. Now then, give me a leg-up, Dan.”
One by one they crawled up by the stone corner post and dropped into the shrubbery beyond. Then, keeping as much as possible in the shadows, they made their way up the hill. The main buildings, five in number, form three sides of a square at the summit, with Knowles Hall, the finest of all, in the center. It was toward Knowles that their steps were bent, but they didn’t make a straight line for it for the reason that had they done so they would have been in plain sight for several hundred yards. Instead they kept along the school boundary on the east until a dormitory building was near. Then they slipped across to its protecting walls, went cautiously along the end of it, and halted there in the angle of a stone porch.
“Now then,” whispered Alf, “hand over the sign.” Chambers laid down the roll of sheeting and Alf whipped out a knife and slashed the strings. Then he drew a paper of thumbtacks from his pocket, and for the next minute or two worked hard. The poles were placed on the ground, and to each of them an end of the strip of sheeting was secured with the thumbtacks. When all was ready Alf took one pole and Dan the other, and with the rest of the expedition following, walked brazenly across the turf until they were in the center of the space between the buildings, and directly in front of the recitation hall.
“All right,” Alf whispered.
Down went the sharpened ends of the two poles into the soft sod under the weight of the boys, and Alf backed off to view the result.
“Thunder!” he muttered. “We’ve got it wrong side to. Pull it up fellows, and change ends. Quick!”
Up came the poles and down they went again. Then the boys gathered in front of their handiwork, chuckling and whispering. Behind them frowned the dark windows of Broadwood Academy. At that moment the moon, eager perhaps to see what was up, emerged from a cloud and shone down on the scene. Had any of the occupants of the buildings looked out just then they would have gasped with surprise, and doubtless rubbed their eyes, thinking themselves still asleep. For out there in the moonlight stood a group of eight boys exhibiting unmistakable signs of delight; and in front of them, facing the main entrance of Knowles Hall, stretched a ten-foot long strip of white sheeting. And on it, in blue letters a foot high, was printed:
“FATHER, IS THIS A SCHOOL?”