ten o'clock
Others were swathed in their blankets smoking in solemn silence . One was deep in the blood-curdling pages of a dime novel , straining his eyes in the fitful light of the lamps . The scene had novelty for him , but it was not altogether enthralling , so he filled his pipe and lit it , and passed out into the fresh night air . It was only ten o'clock , and he felt that a smoke and a comfortable think would be pleasant before facing the charms of his dusty couch . The moon had not yet risen , but the starry sheen of the sky dimly outlined everything . He was gazing upon the peaceful scene of a ranch when night has spread her soft , velvety wings . There were few sounds to distract his thoughts .