Working with the utmost method, they slowly circled the town, approaching nearer and nearer to the central zone of danger. Several times they had narrow escapes, but they always managed to pull out before the cops actually caught them, though more than once they were obliged to run, leaving only the top section of the bill affixed to the board. It is safe to say, however, that those incomplete sections, breaking off abruptly in the middle of the announcement, attracted more attention from the passers-by in the morning, and stimulated their curiosity to a much greater extent than anything else. At last they reached Chapel Street, just opposite the campus, and here Fitz conceived the audacious scheme of putting one of their bills on the board in front of the Arcadian Theatre. This was carrying the war into the enemy’s camp with a vengeance, but Dick at once perceived the advertising value of such a thing, and they proceeded to plan it with care. An officer’s beat took in Chapel Street between York and Orange, a matter of five blocks. Merriwell stationed the cab well around the corner on High Street, and then carried the paste and one of the bills into a doorway nearer the corner. There they thoroughly pasted the first part of the bill, while Buckhart, keeping watch at the corner, gave the word when the cop was well away from the front of the theatre. As soon as the coast was clear, Dick and Fitz dashed out, carrying the pasted sheet between them, while Rudolph Rose came along with the brush. A few deft dabs with the latter served to fix the paper to the board, and then they darted into concealment again, to await another round on the part of the officer. He passed the billboard the first time without noticing the change, but on his return trip, he seemed to be attracted by the unfinished look of the thing. “Begorrah!” the listening fellows heard him mutter. “It’s careless Johnny Lawford’s min is gettin’ to be. Runnin’ off an’ l’avin’ the board half done. ‘Jarvis of Yale.’ A foine show’, I doubt not.” The moment his back was turned, the next sheet was added to the board, and the announcement completed. The fellows did not stay to hear the officer’s comments on his return trip. But they laughed gleefully as they pictured his astonishment when he saw, the bill of a Concert Hall production before the Arcadian Theatre. It was nearly five o’clock when the empty pails and brushes were returned to the billposter’s establishment. Bill Brown promptly hung the latter in their place, washed out the pails, and put them away. Then, locking the door, he departed with a hearty good night, one hand clutching two crisp ten-dollar notes, thrust deep in his trousers pocket. The Yale men accompanied Demarest to the hotel, and helped him carry in what remained of the bills. Then they left him, and made their way to their various quarters in high glee at the success of the night’s work.