four P.M.
And yet , frank , jolly , and generous as he was in all intercourse with his comrades , there was never a time when this young gentleman could be brought to see that in such matters he was the arbiter of his own destiny . Like the Irishman whose first announcement on setting foot on American soil was that he was `` agin the government , '' Billy McKay believed that regulations were made only to oppress ; that the men who drafted such a code were idiots , and that those whose duty it became to enforce it were simply spies and tyrants , resistance to whom was innate virtue . He was forever ignoring or violating some written or unwritten law of the Academy ; was frequently being caught in the act , and was invariably ready to attribute the resultant report to ill luck which pursued no one else , or to a deliberate persecution which followed him forever . Every six months he had been on the verge of dismissal , and now , a fortnight from the final examination , with a margin of only six demerit to run on , Mr. Billy McKay had just been read out in the daily list of culprits or victims as `` Shouting from window of barracks to cadets in area during study hours , -- three forty-five and four P.M. '' There was absolutely no excuse for this performance . The regulations enjoined silence and order in barracks during `` call to quarters . '' It had been raining a little , and he was in hopes there would be no battalion drill , in which event he would venture on throwing off his uniform and spreading himself out on his bed with a pipe and a novel , -- two things he dearly loved . Ten minutes would have decided the question legitimately for him , but , being of impatient temperament , he could not wait , and , catching sight of the adjutant and the senior captain coming from the guard-house , Mr. McKay sung out in tones familiar to every man within ear-shot , -- `` Hi , Jim !