about four o'clock in the afternoon
The Hen being always an out-and-out hustler , and hard as an Indian pony , her not being well shook us up bad . Everybody was friends with her , same as she was friends with everybody -- even when she got into one of her tantrums , and took to jawing you , you could n't help liking her -- and knowing she was n't feeling like she ought to feel put a big lot more of a damper on all hands . So we just kept on taking drinks and getting miserabler with 'em -- and feeling all the time surer something was coming bouncing out at us from round the corner , and wondering what kind of a stir-up we was likely to have . It was along about four o'clock in the afternoon the cyclone struck us ; and it was such a small-sized one , when we did get it , we did n't know whether to laugh or swear . But the cyclone himself did n't think there was anything small about him : being Hart 's nephew -- so scared to death all the few wits he ever had was knocked clean out of him -- who come into Palomitas , white as white-wash , riding bareback one of the coach mules . He just sort of rolled off the mule , in front of the Forest Queen , and went in to the bar and got four drinks in him before he could speak a word -- and then he said he 'd been held up at the Barranca Grande by about two hundred road-agents who 'd opened up on him and killed all the mules except the one he 'd got away on ; and his getting away at all , he said , was only because he 'd put up such a fight he 'd scared 'em -- and after that because they could n't hit him when once he was off , and had the mule going on a dead run . Then he took two more drinks , and told his story all over again ; and as it was about the same story both times -- and he so scared , and by the time he told it over again so set up with his drinks , it did n't seem likely he 'd sense enough left to be lying -- the boys allowed like enough it was true .