8 o'clock
There was not much snow on the ground , and the ice on the little river at the rear of the house was as smooth as a polished window-pane . For nearly two score miles this current , which eventually found its way into the Penobscot , wound through the leafless woods , past an occasional opening , where , perhaps , the humble cabin of some backwoodsman stood . It was an ideal skating rink , and the particular overflow of spirits on that evening was due to the agreement that it was to be devoted to the exhilarating amusement . `` We will leave the house at 8 o'clock , '' said Fred at the supper table , `` and skate to the mouth of Wild Man 's Creek and back . '' `` How far is that ? '' inquired Monteith Sterry . `` About ten miles . ''