nine
o'clock
Somewhere over in that tropical darkness -- perhaps already threading the profundities of the alluvial lowlands -- the high adventurer and his mate were moving toward land 's end . The game of Fox-in-the-Morning should be coming soon to its close . Goodwin , at his deliberate gait , passed the long , low _ cuartel _ where Coralio 's contingent of Anchuria 's military force slumbered , with its bare toes pointed heavenward . There was a law that no civilian might come so near the headquarters of that citadel of war after nine o'clock , but Goodwin was always forgetting the minor statutes . '' _ Quién vive ? _ '' shrieked the sentinel , wrestling prodigiously with his lengthy musket . '' _ Americano _ , '' growled Goodwin , without turning his head , and passed on , unhalted .