six o'clock in the evening
The warehouse man felt that during the meeting on the corner before the saloon on the day McGregor began to work for him something had happened . The miner 's son had unmanned him . `` A man ought to be boss in his own place , '' he sometimes muttered to himself , as he walked in the passageways among rows of piled apple barrels in the upper part of the warehouse wondering why the presence of McGregor irritated him . From six o'clock in the evening until two in the morning McGregor now worked as night-cashier in a restaurant on South State Street below Van Buren and from two until seven in the morning he slept in a room whose windows looked down into Michigan Boulevard . On Thursday he was free , his place being taken for the evening by the man who owned the restaurant , a small excitable Irishman by the name of Tom O'Toole . McGregor got his chance to become a student through the bank account belonging to Edith Carson . The opportunity arose in this way .