seventeen
minutes past four
It 's easy to make a bullet mushroom by a little manipulation of the tip of it . When I was in the broken square at Tamai -- '' `` Wait a bit , '' cried Mortimer , adjusting his glasses . `` I think they are coming now . '' `` The time , '' said Scott , snapping up his watch , `` being exactly seventeen minutes past four . '' Anerley had been lying behind a camel staring with an interest which bordered upon fascination at the rocks opposite . Here was a little woolly puff of smoke , and there was another one , but never once had they caught a glimpse of the attackers . To him there was something weird and awesome in these unseen , persistent men who , minute by minute , were drawing closer to them .