about nine o'clock
But eventually dreaming loses its sting just as futile waiting and searching does , and I awoke one morning in a long and involved debate between my id and my conscience . I decided at that moment that I would take that highway out and pay a visit to the Harrison farm . I was salving my slightly rusty conscience by telling myself that it was because I had never paid my respects to Father Harrison , but not too deep inside I knew that if Father were missing and Daughter were present I 'd enjoy my visit to the farm with more relish . But my id took a licking because the doorbell rang about nine o'clock that morning and when I dug the doorstep I came up with two gentlemen wearing gold badges in leather folders in their jacket pockets . I opened the door because I could n't have played absent to a team consisting of one esper and one telepath . They both knew I was home . `` Mr. Cornell , we 'll waste no time .