about six o'clock
Vy ! I trink mit Shack Denver not twelf hour ago ! '' But Ben persisted : `` I 'm not drunk , Mr Buckolts , and I ai n't got the horrors -- I wish to God I was an ' had . Poor Jack was killed near Anderson 's , riding home , about six o'clock . '' Though Ben could n't see him , he could feel and hear by his tones , that old Buckolts sat up in bed suddenly . `` _ Mein Gott _ ! How did it happen , Pen ? ''