What a shout went up! The torches flared, and it seemed that the very stars quivered with the volume of sound.
"Merriwell! Merriwell! Merriwell!" roared the vast throng.
Roar! roar! roar! It seemed that they would never stop. It was an ovation that might have pleased a monarch.
Frank would have been less than human had he not thrilled with satisfaction as he heard them cheering him thus. He took off his cap and bowed again and again. He tried to descend from the steps and mingle with the throng, but some of them held him back. They seemed to want him up there where they could look at him.
It was some time before the cheering subsided. At last, somebody began to shout:
"Speech! speech! speech!"
Frank shook his head, but it was useless. They were determined he should say something. He saw he could not escape, so he held up one hand.
Silence fell on the great crowd beneath the torchlights.
Then Frank spoke—a single sentence:
"Every man of us did his level best for dear old Yale!"