midnight
And so the Larger Good was doing its fine work in a wicked world . The spring sun of 1875 that tanned John Barclay 's face gave it a leathery masklike appearance that the succeeding years never entirely wore off . For he lived in the open by day , riding among his fields in three townships , watching the green carpet of March rise and begin to dimple in April , and billow in May . And at night he worked in his office until the midnight cockcrow . His back was bowed under a score of burdens . But his greatest burden was the bank ; for it gave him worry ; and worry weighed upon him more than work . It was in April -- early April when the days were raw and cloudy , and the nights blustery and dreary -- that Barclay sat in his office one night after a hard day afield , his top-boots spattered with mud , his corduroy coat spread out on a chair to dry , and his wet gray soft hat on his desk beside him .