"Bring 'em aboard! Bring 'em aboard! Pass the order," rumbled the admiral.
"Just as they are!" questioned Boynton, not quite sure that he understood aright.
"Yes! Yes! Bring 'em aboard!"
"What will the ladies say?" gasped Boynton. "These rowing togs are rather sketchy."
"Hang their clothes! Get 'em some. Pass the word, man. Bring them up the STARBOARD GANGWAY. Bring 'em up, I say, and get down there to welcome them! They own the ship and everything on board!"
Boynton lost no time in passing the word and hurrying down to greet the winning crew and it seemed as though the whole personnel of the old Olympia had gone stark mad.
But to see and hear was to obey and the Olympia's lads, clad in raiment conspicuous principally for its limitations, came piling up the sacred starboard gangway to be met by Captain Boynton who grasped each hand in turn as he shouted:
"You're a bunch worth while! You spoiled their tea party! You busted up their dance, confound you, you scamps! You did 'em up in shape and WE'RE the whole show! Now go below and get fit to be seen, then come back and let the ladies feed you and make fools of you, for they'll DO it all right."
And they were fed! They were ready to be. A pull over such a course means an appetite, but whether these level-headed chaps were made fools of is open to question.
It was long after dark before that frolic ended, and the ships were a fairy spectacle of electric lights, the band's strains floating across the water as light feet tripped to the inspiring strains of waltz or two-step.