unexplored country. The Bishop, being in both cricket and football
teams, had few opportunities for cycling. He always brought his machine
to School, but he very seldom used it.

At the beginning of the unexplored country, an irresponsible person
recommended him to go straight on. He couldn't miss the road, said he.
It was straight all the way. Gethryn thanked him, rode on, and having
gone a mile came upon three roads, each of which might quite well have
been considered a continuation of the road on which he was already. One
curved gently off to the right, the other two equally gently to the
left. He dismounted and the feelings of gratitude which he had borne
towards his informant for his lucid directions vanished suddenly. He
gazed searchingly at the three roads, but to single out one of them as
straighter than the other two was a task that baffled him completely. A
sign-post informed him of three things. By following road one he might
get to Brindleham, and ultimately, if he persevered, to Corden. Road
number two would lead him to Old Inns, whatever they might be, with the
further inducement of Little Benbury, while if he cast in his lot with
road three he might hope sooner or later to arrive at Much
Middlefold-on-the-Hill, and Lesser Middlefold-in-the-Vale. But on the
subject of Anfield and Anfield Junction the board was silent.

Two courses lay open to him. Should he select a route at random, or
wait for somebody to come and direct him? He waited. He went on
waiting. He waited a considerable time, and at last, just as he was
about to trust to luck, and make for Much Middlefold-on-the-Hill, a
figure loomed in sight, a slow-moving man, who strolled down the Old
Inns road at a pace which seemed to argue that he had plenty of time on
his hands.