hed their beer, and George retired somewhat comforted.

As he had predicted, their attendance of the meet the next morning was
only effected at the expense of more patience than Alison possessed.
He was forced, in fact, to borrow from Anthony. Indeed, he afterwards
confessed that, but for the latter's presence, he should undoubtedly
have committed an aggravated assault.

The vicinity of Buck's Folly proved to be suspiciously vacant, and upon
arrival at the standpoint itself if was instantly and painfully clear
that the Bumbles had been mistaken. A passing butcher, when
interrogated, grinningly vouchsafed the information that the meet was
at Saddle Tree Cross, a spot of which all the occupants of the car had
heard, but the way to which no one of them could tell.

Swelling with importance, Mr. Bumble produced a map, and George's face
fell. He had seen that map before--from a distance. So had others.
No one but Mr. Bumble had ever seen it at close quarters. Unhappily
for all concerned, the latter's accomplishments did not include
map-reading, an omission distressingly obvious to every one but
himself. To follow his directions was fatal. Failure to appreciate
his directions was at once easier and more disastrous. What was still
more unfavourable was that, in possessing himself of the map, Mr.
Bumble became possessed of a devil. There was no doubt about it. From
being the most kindly of masters he became a snarling absurdity, whose
endeavours simultaneously to study the canvas, observe the
configuration of the country-side, and rave into the speaking-tube were
consistently vain. George raised his eyes to heaven and prepared for
the worst....

This came almost immediately.

After having obediently turned the car round, George was peremptorily
advised that, after all, he had been facing the right way. Mr. Bumble
rather unfairly added that in his opinion the fool who had made the map
ought to be prosecuted. The warmth with which he committed this belief
to the speaking-tube rendered it not so much inaudible as incoherent,
and George, who believed it to be a further direction, had to ask him
to repeat the remark. By the time Mr. Bumble had realized that he was
being addressed and had placed his ear to the tube, George had
concluded his inquiry and was patiently listening at the opposite
end....

With such a beginning, the rest was easy. The wheels of wrath were
greased. Thereafter it was no longer a questi