Lunacy was the word to describe what followed. Madness seized the crowd. Hats in the air, good hats. Fellows thumped one another, jumped up and down, yelled and bawled and screamed and cried. Hysteria was let loose. Regal knew that the game was won. The score now stood 9 to 8. As the teams were playing, Stanley could not score again. Regal took the ball and brought it down the field to try for a goal. Bob kicked it, and it went sailing just outside the mark. But no one minded. The fellows rushed to position for the continuation of the game. All the way down to their formation, it was nothing but "Bully Boy, Mulvy." "You saved the day, Mulvy." "You're a brick, Mulvy."
And from the crowd it was, "Mulvy, Mulvy! Rah, Rah, Mul....vy!" now from one section of the Regal stand, now from another.
The whistle blew, the fight was on again. Stanley made desperate efforts to regain the lead. Once or twice they almost succeeded in breaking through. The yell from their followers now took another form. "Stanley, gain! Stanley, gain! Stanley, gain!" They tried hard. They kept on trying to the very end. The whistle blew, the game was over, Regal was Interscholastic Champion!
The noise that now broke out made all the previous demonstration seem mild in comparison. The Regal section of the stands was one mass of frenzied humanity. Men, women and boys yelled and slapped and thumped. Anything that could make a noise was commandeered and set in operation. It was temporary lunacy. The tense strain of nearly two hours let itself off in hysterically jubilant celebration.
But the real frenzy was on the field. The coach was fit to be caged. He yelled and bawled and danced. He pummelled everybody and everything within reach. All the reserve players were cheering and howling, boy fashion. The team itself was just one big satisfied smile. Their joy was too great for expression. They hugged one another. All of them tried to hug Frank at once.
"O let up," he yelled. "This is worse than the game." He tore himself loose. But not for long. He was blocked everywhere. The team surrounded him again, pitched him on the shoulders of the stoutest two, spite of his opposition, and marched off to the dressing room.
"What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mul....vy!" They repeated that over and over again. As they got near the stand, the crowd took it up, Gaffney leading. "What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mulvy!"
About a hundred Regal boys with Gaffney at their head marched to Frank's home yelling, "What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mul....vy! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal!—Mul. . . .vy!"
They passed the rectory on their way to Frank's house. Gaffney yelled out, "Here, fellows, let's give a good one for Regal and Mulvy." The cheer rang out,
"Regal! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal. What's the matter with Mulvy? He's all right! Who's all right? Mul. . . .vy! Regal! Regal! Rah, Rah, Regal! Mulvy!"