eleven o'clock
Friedrich lighted his lamp and opened his door to look up the road , a view not commanded by his single window . He prepared his evening meal of coffee and bread and the batter-cakes that he had learned to like and then to make in this land of the frying-pan . Still Bud did not come . At eleven o'clock he went to bed , for he knew that no countryman , unless he were going for the doctor , would be abroad at that hour , with such mud under foot . The next day 's noon brought no news of the recreant messenger , and von Rittenheim went to the Yarebroughs ' cabin in search of him . `` He ain ' home , '' Melissa said , in the raised voice that she felt to be necessary to the German 's understanding of her English . `` He 's gone to shoot cotton-tails .