four o'clock
The truth is usually a nasty thing to stand . `` It was not six months after that that my friendship to Jube , which he had been at such great pains to win , was put to too severe a test . `` It was in the summer time again , and as business was slack , I had ridden over to see my friend , Dr. Tom . I had spent a good part of the day there , and it was past four o'clock when I rode leisurely into Bradford . I was in a particularly joyous mood and no premonition of the impending catastrophe oppressed me . No sense of sorrow , present or to come , forced itself upon me , even when I saw men hurrying through the almost deserted streets . When I got within sight of my home and saw a crowd surrounding it , I was only interested sufficiently to spur my horse into a jog trot , which brought me up to the throng , when something in the sullen , settled horror in the men 's faces gave me a sudden , sick thrill .