five minutes past eleven
`` Here , take Gray Eagle . '' He flung his bridle to the lad , and threw Sydney into the saddle as quickly as she could wish . She adjusted herself carefully , for she knew how the discomfort of a twisted skirt may make a difference of a minute in the mile , or may mean real danger at a jump . `` There 's no time to lose , it 's five minutes past eleven now , '' she said , glancing at a strap watch on her wrist , and touching Johnny with her spur . Bob 's horse was off in pursuit before his master was well on his back . `` I declare , she might have given me a fairer start ! '' he growled , as the sorrel settled down ahead of him into a run that bade fair to keep even the advantage .