ten minutes past twelve
Boy , your work 's sure going to stand out on the screen ! '' Can you blame the cashier for drinking in every word of that , and for emptying the vault of gold and stacking it up in beautiful , high piles where the sun shone on it through the window -- and where it would be within easy reach , by the way ! -- so that the camera could `` register '' it ? At ten minutes past twelve he had gotten rid of patrons and clerks , and he had the gold out and his green eyeshade adjusted as becomingly as a green eyeshade may be adjusted . He looked out and saw that the street was practically empty , because of the hour and the heat that was almost intolerable where the sun shone full . He saw a big red machine drive up to the corner and stop , and he saw a man climb out with camera already screwed , to the tripod . He saw the bandits throw away their cigarettes and follow the camera man , and then he hurried back and took up his station beside the stacks of gold , and waited in a twitter of excitement for this unhoped-for encore of last Wednesday 's glorious performance .