ten o'clock
Each moment he said : `` I 'll give it up , get onto one of the horses , and go down and tell her . '' But searching for a lost axle-burr is like fishing ; the searcher expects each moment to find it . And so he groped , and ran breathlessly , furiously , back and forth , and at last kicked away the clod that covered it , and hurried , hot and dusty , cursing his stupidity , back to the team . It was ten o'clock as he climbed again into the buggy , and started his team on a swift trot down the road . What would she think ? He saw her now with tearful eyes and pouting lips . She was sitting at the window , with hat and gloves on ; the rest had gone , and she was waiting for him .