Two more plays, Stonewell carrying the ball, brought a touch-down to Annapolis and Stonewell kicked a goal. This was the only scoring done during the game. In vain did each team hurl itself against the other; all for nothing did prodigies of violence occur. When time was finally called the score stood Annapolis 6, Bucknell 0. And then thoughts turned to Farnum, now in the Academy sick quarters. When questioned Surgeon Pickron looked grave and said, "Mr. Farnum has had a terrible blow on the head--he has had many recurring spasms ever since--I regard his condition as very serious." [Illustration: _AROUND THE END_] Such news travels fast, and on Saturday night the whole Academy, officers and midshipmen, were much perturbed. Sunday brought no change for the better and Surgeon Pickron advised an operation. Farnum had not regained consciousness. Surgeon Welton, who was in command of the hospital, insisted on delaying, against Dr. Pickron's advice, and on Monday morning everybody was much cheered up by hearing that Farnum's spasms had ceased and that he had come to himself. It was decided not to perform the operation, though Dr. Pickron believed that a clot of blood had formed and that Farnum's skull should be trephined. From now on Farnum continued to improve and in two weeks he was discharged from sick quarters and sent back to Bancroft Hall, though it was ordered that he was to play no more football. But it was not the same Farnum. In place of the cheery, wideawake youth who had battled so valiantly against Bucknell, was a slow-moving, hesitating young man. He seemed afraid. The slightest unexpected noise or untoward incident seemed to startle him, sometimes to frighten him badly. "I can't help it, Bob," he said one time, with half a laugh and half a sob; "it's my nerves, I suppose; I'm sure there's something wrong with me; I know I'm acting like a baby, and I guess it will pass after a while; but I can't help it, I can't help it," and then Farnum broke down. Stonewell, Robert and some of the others had long talks with him. They were all drawn to him and were much concerned. One of Farnum's peculiarities was that he didn't dare to go out at night. The entire first class were now devoted to him. His popularity had come late in his midshipman career, but it was now strong and abiding. And his sufferings were so acute and so constant that he had the warm sympathy of all. And Academy life went on apace, and Academy life at this period of the year is mostly concerned with football. True, there are study hours and recitations; long hard lessons must be read over and officers must hear recitations; formations must be attended, drills undergone, and examinations prepared for. This football spirit infected the officers as it did midshipmen. Football was the one topic of conversation, the one purpose in life during this epoch, and those that didn't play shouted vociferous advice, admonition and encouragement from the bleachers.