twelve o'clock
exclaimed Moran between her teeth , as she and Wilbur were cooking supper ; `` no , they do n't need to ; they 've got about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars of loot on board -- OUR loot , too ! Good God ! it goes against the grain ! '' The moon rose considerably earlier that night , and by twelve o'clock the bay was flooded with its electrical whiteness . Wilbur and Moran could plainly make out the junk tied up to the kelp off-shore . But toward one o'clock Wilbur was awakened by Moran shaking his arm . `` There 's something wrong out there , '' she whispered ; `` something wrong with the junk .