But Randall had conquered, though she had nearly died.
Somehow the crew heard the cheers for themselves, for their coach and for the plucky little coxswain. Somehow they managed to cheer Fairview and Boxer Hall, and then they were hurried into the dressing rooms.
“I knew you could do it! I knew you could do it!” cried Mr. Lighton, capering about like a boy. “I knew we could make a rowing crew in one season with the material we had.”
“Faith, an’ ye did, me lad!” declared Bricktop, while Housenlager feebly punched Tom in the ribs, a bit of horseplay that our hero was too tired to resent.
“Someone to see Mr. Parsons!” called Wallops, the college messenger, who was helping out at the boathouse. He peered into the anteroom of the dressing apartments.
“I can’t see anyone now,” declared Tom. “Who is it?”
“He says his name is Farson, and——”
“The jeweler!” cried Tom. “Show him in!” and he came from under a shower and grabbed up some garments. “There must be something doing!” he added to Sid and Phil, who had heard the words.
Somewhat bewildered by the athletic throng about him, the jeweler entered.