six o'clock
Somewhere in the screen of woods a whistle shrilled . Benton looked at his watch . `` We made good time , in spite of the little roll , '' said he . `` That 's the donkey blowing quitting time -- six o'clock . Well , come on up to the shack , Sis . Sam , you get a wheelbarrow and run those trunks up after supper , will you ? '' Away in the banked timber beyond the maples and alder which Stella now saw masked the bank of a small stream flowing by the cabins , a faint call rose , long-drawn : `` Tim-ber-r-r-r ! ''