Years passed by, and, against all odds, the new degrees were a huge success: every semester, thousands and thousands of new students were accepted, and hundreds and hundreds of teachers were hired. The educational demand was so big that, no matter how much the university expanded or how many campus were constantly opening, most classes were online—but they still cost the same.
Still, the list of degress continued expandind every semester.
Also, Swindle became the new dean and took R. Jones's office. He left it exactly as it was before. He even kept the paperweight with "R. Jones, PhD. Dean" written on it because his name was R. Jones, he was the dean and he easily got some honoris causa PhDs from his own college.
"Mr. Jones," said one day Abby, Swindle' assistant, through the intercom.
"Yes, Abby?"
"Here is the police chief and a bunch of reporters. They're looking for you."
Swindle knew this day will come—it always did.
"Tell them to wait just a moment," Swindle opened the office's window, and, when he was about to escape, the police chief, Brook Peterson—his ex-wife always called him Crooked Peterson—came in.
"Glad to find you here, Ringo," the police chief approached him and put his arm around him
"Sure, but, you see: right now I really have to go do some business, so…" Swindle took his wallet, took out a lot money and offered it to the police chief. "You didn't see me here, ok?"
The police chief took the money, but:
"You're pretty generous, but I can't let you go; a lot of people's looking for you. In fact, the mayor asked me to find you. Come on."
Swindle was left with no choice but to go with the police chief. They both got out of Swindle's office, and a bunch of reporters made sure to take as many pictures as they could, so they captured the moment—and Swindle's face—from any possible angle.
"Well," said the police chief. "Let's go."