"There is no place for you to sleep tonight without corralling you with
the fellows; there is but one bedroom, and there are fourteen bunks in
it."

I shuddered at the prospect-fourteen bunks in one small room, and those
whisky-sodden, loud-cursing card-players to be my roommates for the
night!

"I prefer sitting here by the stove all night," I said; "I can employ
most of the time writing, if I can have a light."

Pete thought a moment, looked grave, and then said:

"That won't do, Elder; those fellows would take offense, and make
trouble. Several of them are out now goose-hunting; they will be coming
in at all hours from now till daybreak, and it won't do for them to find
you sitting up here alone. The best, thing for you to do is to go in and
take one of those bunks; you, needn't takeoff any thing but your coat
and boots, and"--here he lowered his voice, looking about him as he
spoke--"if you have any money about, keep it next to your body."

The last words were spoken with peculiar emphasis.

Taking the advice given me, I took up my baggage and followed Pete to
the room where I was to spend the night. Ugh! it was dreadful. The
single window in the room was nailed down, and the air was close and
foul. The bunks were damp and dirty beyond belief, grimed with foulness,
and reeking with ill odors. This was being corralled.