Eight o'clock
We hurried to the spot where Flash Harvey was to leave the gas-hopper but there was no sign of Flash or the machine . Seven o'clock came and still no sign of Flash or the Bubble , and there we sat , two sad boys without a baubee in the jeans , hungry to the limit and with an ever present vision of our two worried wives displacing a bunch of expensive space in a restaurant while they waited for us to show . It was pitiful . Eight o'clock came , no Flash , no machine , while there we waited and watched our hair as it slowly turned gray . I had gone through my pockets till I wore holes in them without locating anything in the shape money , but finally on about the 919th lap Bunch discovered dollar bill tucked away in a corner , whereupon we turned our faces to every point of the compass and called down maledictions on the head of Flash Harvey , wherever he might be , and then ducked for the trolley . When we finally reached the Hotel Astor it was a quarter past ten , so we decided it was too late for dinner and we did n't go in . At home -- but what 's the use ?