three o'clock
The spectacles of Professor Thaddeus Bolton were broken . Somewhere in the scheme of things those smashed lenses must fit . But where ? It was past three o'clock . The early twilight crept up the mountain , and the shadows began to lengthen in the great bare office of Baldpate Inn . In the red flicker of firelight Mr. Magee sat and pondered ; the interval since luncheon had passed lazily ; he was no nearer to guessing which of Baldpate Inn 's winter guests hugged close the precious package . Exasperated , angry , he waited for he knew not what , restless all the while to act , but having not the glimmer of an inspiration as to what his course ought to be .