An old-fashioned squirrel rifle lay on hooks
projecting from the wall, but there was no other sign of a weapon.
There was a bed at one end of the room and another at the other, which
could be hidden by a rough woolen curtain running on a cord. Dick
surmised that this bed would be assigned to him.
Their appetites grew lax and finally ceased. Then Leffingwell yawned
and stretched his arms.
"Stranger," he said, "we rise early an' go to bed early in these parts.
Thar ain't nothin' to keep us up in the evenin's, an' as you've had a
hard, long ride I guess you're just achin' fur sleep."
Dick, although he had been unwilling to say so, was in fact very sleepy.
The heavy supper and the heat of the room pulled so hard on his eyelids
that he could scarcely keep them up. He murmured his excuses and said
he believed he would like to retire.
"Don't you be bashful about sayin' so," exclaimed Leffingwell heartily,
"'cause I don't think I could keep up more'n a half hour longer."
Mrs. Leffingwell drew the curtain shutting off one bed and a small space
around it. Dick, used to primitive customs, said good-night and retired
within his alcove, taking his saddle bags. There was a small window
near the foot of the room, and when he noticed it he resolved to let in
a little air later on. The mountaineers liked hot rooms all the time,
but he did not. This window contained no glass, but was closed with a
broad shutter.
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