three o'clock
There were my saddle-blankets -- rather wet ; or Lin McLean might ride in to-night on his way to Riverside ; or perhaps down at the corrals I could find some other acquaintance whose habit of washing I trusted and whose bed I might share . Failing these expedients , several empties stood idle upon a siding , and the box-like darkness of these freight-cars was timely . Nights were short now . Camping out , the dawn by three o'clock would flow like silver through the universe , and , sinking through my blankets , remorselessly pervade my buried hair and brain . But with clean straw in the bottom of an empty , I could sleep my fill until five or six . I decided for the empty , and opened the supper-room door , where the table was set for more than enough to include me ; but the smell of the butter that awaited us drove me out of the Hotel Brunswick to spend the remaining minutes in the air . `` I was expecting you , '' said the girl .