ten o'clock
He shoved the weapon into the side pocket of his coat , ordered another Martini , and resumed his seat . He thought steadily for an hour , but he grinned no more . Lines formed in his face , and in those lines were the travail of the North , the bite of the frost , all that he had achieved and suffered -- the long , unending weeks of trail , the bleak tundra shore of Point Barrow , the smashing ice-jam of the Yukon , the battles with animals and men , the lean-dragged days of famine , the long months of stinging hell among the mosquitoes of the Koyokuk , the toil of pick and shovel , the scars and mars of pack-strap and tump-line , the straight meat diet with the dogs , and all the long procession of twenty full years of toil and sweat and endeavor . At ten o'clock he arose and pored over the city directory . Then he put on his shoes , took a cab , and departed into the night . Twice he changed cabs , and finally fetched up at the night office of a detective agency . He superintended the thing himself , laid down money in advance in profuse quantities , selected the six men he needed , and gave them their instructions .