midnight
The sides of the shack were open above a three-foot siding of boards , open save for a mosquito netting . An old screen door was set up at the front , but Bob had not even latched that . If one was in danger out here , he was simply in danger , that was all , for there was no way to hide from it . A little after midnight two Mexicans crept along on all-fours between the cotton rows at the edge of Bob 's field . At the end of the rows , fifty yards from the shack , they crouched on their haunches and listened . The wind shook the tall rank cotton and rustled the weeds along the ditches . But no other sound .