About nine o'clock
All the campaign I could figure out was to back into the wings and sell to some well-behaved stock-broker or life-insurance grafter . It was goin ' to be tough on the Whaleys , though . I did n't let on to Dennis , and after supper we sat on the back steps while he smoked his cutty and gassed away about the things he was goin ' to raise , and how the flower-beds would look in a month or so . About nine o'clock he shows me a place where I can turn in , and I listens to the roosters crowin ' most of the night . Next mornin ' I had Dennis get me a Sunday paper , and after I 'd read the sportin ' notes , I turns to the suburban real estate ads . `` Why not own a home ? '' most of 'em asks .