Afterwards he explained that shouting was quicker than whistling, and that if he had taken time to pucker his lips they would never have got away without being seen.
They came together a block down the main thoroughfare, breathless and hilarious. “He—he went in the gate,” panted Bob. “I saw him. Looked like one of the faculty, too. Gee, it was a lucky thing he didn’t catch us! D-did you get it done, Cal?”
“Just! I was going over the naught a second time when I heard Brand yell. I had the paint can in one hand and the brush in the other and I just heaved ’em both over the wall and ran!”
“I’ll bet it looks great,” chuckled Martin.
“I know it does,” answered Cal proudly. “I made the letters and figures as big as that.” He held his hands nearly a yard apart. “It took most of the paint, too. Brick’s awfully hard to work on. What did you do with Brand’s handkerchief, Bob?”
“Gave it back,” said Bob.
“No, you didn’t,” denied Willard.
“Didn’t I? I thought I did. Meant to, anyway. Must have dropped it somewhere, then. Wipe your hands on your own hanky. That’s what you told me to do!”
“I will like fun,” muttered Cal. “I’ll bet the stuff is all over me, hang it!”