three o'clock
The legal affair dismissed , there ensued a weary interval of time-killing . There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five o'clock in the afternoon , and the hours dragged heavily for the two , who had nothing to do but wait . Biggin endured his part of it manfully till the midday dinner had been discussed ; then he drifted off with one of Winton 's cigars between his teeth , saying that he should `` take poison '' and shoot up the town if he could not find some more peaceful means of keeping his blood in circulation . It was a little after three o'clock , and Winton was sitting at the writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook data of the morning 's inspection , when a boy came in with a telegram . The young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be deaf to the colloquy . `` Mr. John Winton ? Yes , he is here somewhere , '' said the clerk in answer to the boy 's question ; and after an identifying glance : `` There he is -- over at the writing-table . ''