about six o'clock
The hills changed in character , growing more intimately recognizable . They rose higher as the train left the ridge and passed down into the Black River valley , and specifically into the La Crosse valley . They ceased to have any hint of upheavals of rock , and became simply parts of the ancient level left standing after the water had practically given up its post-glacial scooping action . It was about six o'clock as he caught sight of the splendid broken line of hills on which his baby eyes had looked thirty-five years ago . A few minutes later , and the train drew up at the grimy little station set into the hillside , and , giving him just time to leap off , plunged on again toward the West . Howard felt a ridiculous weakness in his legs as he stepped out upon the broiling-hot , splintery planks of the station and faced the few idlers lounging about . He simply stood and gazed with the same intensity and absorption one of the idlers might show standing before the Brooklyn Bridge .