two o'clock
And now there returned to him something that the dead old Colonel had told him long ago , and to-day he saw it for truth . However his father had wronged him , he would always have this , at least , to bless his memory for . For it was his father who had called him to live in this city where dwelt , as the strong voice that was now still had said , the kindest and sweetest people in the world . * * * * * Henry G. Surface died at half-past two o'clock on the afternoon of March 24 . At one o'clock that night , while the _ Post 's _ startling story was yet in process of the making , his son stood at the mantel in Surface 's sitting-room , and looked over the wreck that his hands had made . That his father 's treasures were hidden somewhere here he had hardly entertained a doubt . Yet he had pulled the place all to pieces without finding a trace of them .