about eleven o'clock
Tom watched him as he ascended the steps of a neighboring porch . He had a strange fascination for the boy , and it was not till the door closed behind him that Tom 's steady gaze was averted . Then he shuffled off down the street . Tom Slade awoke at about eleven o'clock , swung his legs to the floor , yawned , rubbed his eyes , felt blindly for his tattered shoes and sniffed the air . Something was wrong , that was sure . Tom sniffed again . Something had undoubtedly happened .