twelve o'clock
The sergeant , a huge , menacing figure of a man , stepped forward and motioned to him to stand . `` Now , see here ; look , me man ! '' he said slowly and distinctly , a sort of tense eagerness underlying his soft tones , `` behfure I shtart in charrgin ' ye wid anythin ' I 'm goin ' tu put a few questions tu ye in front av this ginthleman '' -- he indicated the justice -- `` He 's a mag ` strate , so ye 'd best tell th ' trute . Now -- th ' night behfure last -- betune say , nine an ' twelve o'clock ... fwhere was ye ? '' -- he paused -- `` Think harrd , an ' come across wid th ' straight goods . '' A tense silence succeeded . The hobo , the cynosure of a ring of watchful expectant faces , mumbled indistinctly , `` I was sleepin ' -- up in th ' loft o ' th ' livery-stable . ''