Six o'clock
`` Trouble is I ca n't get away from it . '' Riggs ' small voice was so plaintive that the others laughed , then dropped into a reverie while there came the murmur of the hidden stream and the small unceasing voices of the dusk that blend into the note which men call silence . Very softly and out of the south drifted a melodious sound . `` Six o'clock at the works , '' drawled Birch , snapping his watch . `` Does that suggest anything ? '' An hour later two buckboards drew up in front of the hotel and the four stepped down , a little stiff , but utterly content . As Riggs took his basket from Fisette , he coughed a little awkwardly .