four in the afternoon
Johnny McComas flung open a drawer , seized a revolver of his own , sprang to his feet -- Pardon me , dear reader . The simple fact is , I have suddenly been struck by my lack of drama . You see how awkwardly I provide it , when I try . What bank robbers , I ask you , would undertake such an adventure at half-past four in the afternoon ? I can not compete with the films . As a matter of fact , the vault stood locked , the tellers were gone , even the office-boy had stolen away , and Johnny and I were left alone together , exchanging rather feebly , and with increasing feebleness , some faint and unimportant boyhood reminiscences ... . I feel abysmally abashed ; let us open a new section .