two o'clock
San Francisco and Seattle were just starting a series of ballgames that promised to be rather swift , and I 'd got a lot up on the result . I hated to go just then . And Montana has the reputation of being rather beastly in early March -- I knew that much . I caught a car down to the Olympic , hunted up Barney MacTague , and played poker with him till two o'clock that night , and never once mentioned the trip I was contemplating . Then I went home , routed up my man , and told him what to pack , and went to bed for a few hours ; if there was anything pleasant in my surroundings that I failed to think of as I lay there , it must be very trivial indeed . I even went so far as to regret leaving Ethel Mapleton , whom I cared nothing for . And above all and beneath all , hanging in the background of my mind and dodging forward insistently in spite of myself , was a deep resentment -- a soreness against dad for the way he had served me .