twelve o'clock
`` Indians , probably , '' replied Ned . `` The country is full of them about here , so I hear . '' `` Must n't believe all you hear , '' piped up Stacy , repeating Ned Rector 's own words , and the latter 's muttered reply was lost in the laughter that followed . It was close to twelve o'clock when they finally emerged on a broad table or mesa . Before them lay the foothills of the Rosebud , rising in broken mounds , some of which towered almost level with the lower peaks of the mountains themselves . `` I do n't see anything of our guide 's cabin , '' said Tad , halting and looking about them . `` What do you think , Professor ! ''