sked--"even if
you can't go to find Long Arrow."

He looked up sharply into my face; and I suppose he saw how anxious I
was. Because he suddenly smiled his old, boyish smile and said,

"Yes, Stubbins. Don't worry. We'll go. We mustn't stop working and
learning, even if poor Long Arrow has disappeared--But where to go:
that's the question. Where shall we go?"

There were so many places that I wanted to go that I couldn't make up
my mind right away. And while I was still thinking, the Doctor sat up in
his chair and said,

"I tell you what we'll do, Stubbins: it's a game I used to play when I
was young--before Sarah came to live with me. I used to call it Blind
Travel. Whenever I wanted to go on a voyage, and I couldn't make up my
mind where to go, I would take the atlas and open it with my eyes shut.
Next, I'd wave a pencil, still without looking, and stick it down on
whatever page had fallen open. Then I'd open my eyes and look. It's a
very exciting game, is Blind Travel. Because you have to swear, before
you begin, that you will go to the place the pencil touches, come what
way. Shall we play it?"

"Oh, let's!" I almost yelled. "How thrilling! I hope it's China--or
Borneo--or Bagdad."

And in a moment I had scrambled up the bookcase, dragged the big atlas
from the top shelf and laid it on the table before the Doctor.

I knew every page in that atlas by heart. How many days and nights I
had lingered over its old faded maps, following the blue rivers from
the mountains to the sea; wondering what the little towns really looked
like, and how wide were the sprawling lakes! I had had a lot of fun with
that atlas, traveling, in my mind, all over the world. I can see it
now: the first page had no map; it just told you that it was printed in
Edinburgh in 1808, and a whole lot more about the book. The next page
was the Solar System, showing the sun and planets, the stars and the
moon. The third page was the chart of the North and South Poles. Then
came the hemispheres, the oceans, the continents and the countries.

As the Doctor began sharpening his pencil a thought came to me.

"What if the pencil falls upon the North Pole," I asked, "will we have
to go there?"

"No. The rules of the game say you don't have to go any place you've
been to before. You are allowed another try. I've been to the North
Pole," he ended quietly, "so we shan't have to go there." I could hardly
speak with astonishment.

"YOU'VE BEEN TO THE N