About three o'clock
They had no clothes now but what they stood in , and only one thing on the sled they could have lived without -- their money , a packet of trading stores . But they had thrown away more than they knew . Day by day , not flannels and boots alone , not merely extra kettle , thermometer and gun went overboard , but some grace of courtesy , some decency of life had been left behind . About three o'clock of this same day , dim with snow , and dizzy in a hurricane of wind , `` We ca n't go on like this , '' said the Boy suddenly . `` Wish I knew the way we _ could _ go on , '' returned the Colonel , stopping with an air of utter helplessness , and forcing his rigid hands into his pockets . The Boy looked at him . The man of dignity and resource , who had been the boss of the Big Chimney Camp -- what had become of him ?