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He glimpsed the dog-cart turning into
Bridge Street. He had an impression that Benham used the whip at
the corner, and that the dog-cart went forward out of sight with a
startled jerk. Prothero quickened his pace.
But when he got to the fork between the Huntingdon Road and the
Cottenham Road, both roads were clear.
He spent some time in hesitation. Then he went along the Huntingdon
Road until he came upon a road-mender, and learnt that Benham had
passed that way. "Going pretty fast 'e was," said the road-mender,
"and whipping 'is 'orse. Else you might 'a thought 'e was a boltin'
with 'im." Prothero decided that if Benham came back at all he
would return by way of Cottenham, and it was on the Cottenham Road
that at last he encountered his friend again.
Benham was coming along at that good pace which all experienced
horses when they are fairly turned back towards Cambridge display.
And there was something odd about Benham, as though he had a large
circular halo with a thick rim. This, it seemed, had replaced his
hat. He was certainly hatless.


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