ten o'clock
`` All right , ma'am . Look out for him ; he 's a bad one . '' But the Messenger shook her head , smiling . At ten o'clock that night the Special Messenger , mounted astride and followed by two cavalrymen with carbines , rode down through the river mist to Bushy Ford . Daintily her handsome horse set foot in the water , hesitated , bent his long , velvety neck , sniffed , and finally drank ; then , satisfied , stepped quietly forward , hock-deep , in the swirling , yellow flood . `` Foller them stakes , Miss , '' cautioned the older trooper ; `` I sot 'em m ` self , I did . '' `` Thank you .