That night we camped at a little village, or crossroad hamlet, I think called Buckeystown.
At a crossroad, in fact, the white pack had vanished into void.
Your husband left us at the very first crossroad toward your place and I was absorbed with my new-old neighbors' affairs.
She had not gone far when she saw a boy coming out of a crossroad.
I knew every signpost, every crossroad, every foot of the ground.
They came to a crossroad, turned into it, and stopped short before a gate.
Of course, I do not refer to German crossroad politicians and kindred blockheads.
There is a crossroad there, you remember, cutting through to the lake, and I turned in.
My reward was the discovery of a crossroad, a mere wagon track, into which I gladly turned, and plodded along steadily.
The pursuers too had reached the turning into the crossroad.