Nine o'clock
`` Briggs . '' `` I guess he ca n't hurt us any . '' Bannon turned back to his work ; and Vogel disappeared in the shadows along the path . Nine o'clock came , and the timber was still coming in . The men were growing tired and surly from the merciless strain of carrying the long , heavy sticks . The night was raw and chill . Bannon felt it as he stood directing the work , and he kept his hands in his pockets , and wished he had worn his overcoat ; but the laborers , barearmed and bare-headed , clad only in overalls or in thin trousers and cotton shirts , were shaking sweat from their eyes , and stealing moments between trips to stand where the keen lake breeze could cool them .