eight
o'clock
Just what do you suppose he would do ? ' But of course , THAT ca n't do any good , '' finished David gloomily , as he rose to go to bed , `` for that was only a ` supposing . ' '' `` Of course , '' agreed Mr. Jack steadily ; and David did not know that only stern self-control had forced the steadiness into that voice , nor that , for Mr. Jack , the whole world had burst suddenly into song . Neither did David , the next morning , know that long before eight o'clock Mr. Jack stood at a certain window , his eyes unswervingly fixed on the gray towers of Sunnycrest . What David did know , however , was that just after eight , Mr. Jack strode through the room where he and Jill were playing checkers , flung himself into his hat and coat , and then fairly leaped down the steps toward the path that led to the footbridge at the bottom of the hill . `` Why , whatever in the world ails Jack ? '' gasped Jill .