about midnight
A dozen times he cried out , then paused to strike a somewhat damp match and light a smoky lantern hanging to the front ashen bow of the turn-out 's covering . Holding the light over his head he peered forth into the inky darkness surrounding the boomer 's temporary camp . `` Not a soul in sight , '' he mused . `` It must be about midnight . Can something have happened to father ? He said he felt rather strange in his head when he went to bed . If only Jack Rasco would come back . ''