Four o'clock
If there 's one thing a sour-dough can do it 's sure walk . '' Once , Smoke lighted a match and glanced at his watch . He never repeated it , for so quick was the bite of the frost on his bared hands , that half an hour passed before they were again comfortable . `` Four o'clock , '' he said , as he pulled on his mittens , `` and we 've already passed three hundred . '' `` Three hundred and thirty-eight , '' Shorty corrected . `` I ben keepin ' count . Get outa the way , stranger .