two A.M.
And when I 'd caught another train back to the right junction I got the pleasin ' bulletin that the next for Quehassett is the theater train , that comes along somewhere about midnight . So there I was hung up in a rummy little commuter town where the chief industry is sellin ' bungalow sites on the salt marsh . Then I tackles the ` phone , which results in three snappy conversations with a grouchy butler at sixty cents a throw , but no real dope on the Beckhams or their guests . Well , it 's near two A.M. when I fin ` lly lands in Quehassett , which is no proper time to call on anybody 's aunt . Everything is shut tight too ; so I spreads out an evenin ' edition on a baggage truck and turns in weary . I 'd overlooked pullin ' down the front shades to the station , though , and the next thing I knew the sun was hittin ' me square in the face . I wanders around Quehassett until a Dago opens up a little fruitstand .