eight o'clock
And at San Bruno the proprietor of the road-house himself hitched up to drive them over to the lake , announcing that he would call for them at `` Richardson 's '' in time for the evening train . `` And he only asked me four bits for both trips , '' whispered Condy to Blix as they jogged along . The country was beautiful . It was hardly eight o'clock , and the morning still retained much of the brisk effervescence of the early dawn . Great bare , rolling hills of gray-green , thinly scattered with live-oak , bore back from the road on either hand . The sky was pale blue . There was a smell of cows in the air , and twice they heard an unseen lark singing .