six o'clock
To reach the next bridge , five miles off , a crazy cross-country drive would have been necessary ; and Mahony was for giving up the job . But Doyle would not acknowledge defeat . He unharnessed the horse , set Mahony on its back , and himself holding to its tail , forced the beast , by dint of kicking and lashing , into the water ; and not only got them safely across , but up the steep sticky clay of the opposite bank . It was six o'clock and a cloudless morning when , numb with cold , his clothing clinging to him like wet seaweed , Mahony entered the wooden hut where the real work he had come out to do began . Later in the day , clad in an odd collection of baggy garments , he sat and warmed himself in the sun , which was fast drawing up in the form of a blankety mist the moisture from the ground . He had successfully performed , under the worst possible conditions , a ticklish operation ; and was now so tired that , with his chin on his chest , he fell fast asleep . Doyle wakened him by announcing the arrival of the buggy .