four
o'clock
He loved his work -- the people he served were devoted to him -- he could read it in their faces and their stammering words . He knew what they wanted to say , even though it was conveyed in a few halting fragments of sentences -- `` You 're all right -- Doc -- sure -- glad you got here -- we knew you 'd make it -- somehow -- you and them high steppers of yours can get through the snow -- if any one can . '' Slowly , for a great weariness was on him , he began to think of Pearl , the red-cheeked shining-eyed Pearl , who had singled him out for her favor ever since he came to the village six years ago ; Pearl , with her contagious optimism and quaint ways , who had the good gift of putting every one in good humor . He smiled to himself when he thought of how often he had made it convenient to pass the school just at four o'clock , and give Pearl and the rest of them a ride home , and the delight he had always had in her fresh young face , so full of lights and shadows . `` Robbing the cradle , eh , Doc ? '' Sam Motherwell had once said , in his clumsy way , when he met them on the road -- `` Nothin ' like pickin ' them out young and trainin ' them up the way you want them . '' He had made no answer to this , but he still felt the wave of anger that swept over him at the blundering words .