And, as they realized this—as it came to them—their eyes that saw not lighted up—their faces, seamed and lined with the contracted muscles, broke into smiles, and then Tom toppled over on his oar, and Frank fell weakly back on Molloy.
"Easy there, me lad, easy," panted Bricktop. "It's all over. You collapsed at the right minute! Oh, wow, but I'm thirsty!"
Jerry Jackson was struggling with the tiller lines wound about his nerveless hands. Ready chums loosed them, and helped him from the shell onto a boat, the crew having recovered sufficiently to put their broad blades out on the water to steady the shell.
And then, following the hush that came after the hysterical outburst which greeted the winners, came floating over the heads of the great throng:
"Aut Vincere! Aut Mori!"
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.
