Five minutes to
eight
For some time after their departure Pepper sat smoking , with his anxious face turned to the clock , until at length , unable to endure the strain any longer , and not without a sportsmanlike idea of being in at the death , he made his way to the station , and placed himself behind a convenient coal-truck . He waited impatiently , with his eyes fixed on the road up which he expected the captain to come . He looked at his watch . Five minutes to eight , and still no captain . The platform began to fill , a porter seized the big bell and rang it lustily ; in the distance a patch of white smoke showed . Just as the watcher had given up all hope , the figure of the captain came in sight . He was swaying from side to side , holding his hat in his hand , but doggedly racing the train to the station .