five o'clock
From morning stables at seven until evening stables at six , each hour held its duty , for in that regular , clock-marked life , recreation was counted a duty just as surely as were the daily drills . Carew , trained on the football field , took to the foot drill as a duck takes to water . Weldon was in his glory on mounted parade . One summer spent on an Alberta ranch had taught him the tricks of the broncho-buster , and five o'clock invariably found him pirouetting across the parade ground on the back of the most vicious mount to be found within the limits of Maitland . More than once there had been a breathless pause while the entire squadron had waited to watch the killing of Trooper Weldon ; more than once there had been an utterly profane pause while the officers had waited for Trooper Weldon to bring his bolting steed back into some semblance of alignment . The pause always ended with Weldon upright in his saddle , his face beaming with jovial smiles and his horse ranged up with mathematical precision . The delays were by no means helpful to discipline .