ten
o'clock
Captain Nat Holt stood outside . His pea-jacket was buttoned close up under his chin , his hat drawn tight down over his forehead . His weather-beaten face , as the light fell upon it , looked cracked and drawn , with dark hollows under the eyes , which the shadows from the lamplight deepened . `` It 's late , I know , doctor , '' he said in a hoarse , strained voice ; `` ten o'clock , maybe , but I got somethin' to talk to ye about , '' and he strode into the room . `` Alone , are ye ? '' he continued , as he loosened his coat and laid his hat on the desk . `` Where 's the good mother ?