six o'clock
The noon comes with blowing of whistles ; and hungry again he goes back to the lunch counter while the waiter is busy and sandwiches are easy prey . But instead of stealing them he comes out on the platform with empty hands and stares back , not understanding why it is so , till the groan of the work hour swelling again calls up the memory of black-browed Regan who has been big boss of it all . '' ' T is sure he would never run and hide from a policeman , '' says Tim , and ponders how Regan would act in his place . `` He would go hungry if he was not strong enough to take what he wanted to their faces -- that is what Regan would do , '' he says ; and despising sandwiches and sinkers which have to be stolen in secret he struts proudly about with his rags and hunger till the six o'clock whistle blows and Mr. Craney meets him at the yard limit . Now be it explained that just below this spot the Great Southwest had built its first freight house , abandoned as the village of Barlow grew away from it into a big town . Long ago the foundations have been wiped out , but in Regan 's time it still stands , a ramshackle ruin on the edge of the right of way , which some official with economy has leased out instead of tearing down . `` This is the Terminal Building , '' explains Mr. Craney as they come up , `` of the Barlow Suburban Railway . ''