ten o'clock
It was a long , framed building , two stories high , with a piazza extending across the side and a front door crowded as closely into one corner as the width of the joist would permit . Under the piazza , ranged along the wall , was a low bench , occupied by about forty tin wash-basins and water-pails , and with coarse , dirty crash towels suspended on rollers above it . By the side of each of these towels hung a comb and a brush , to which a lock of everybody 's hair was clinging , forming in the total a stock sufficient to establish any barber in the wig business . It was , as I have said , ten o'clock when we reached the Station . Throwing the bridles of our horses over the hitching-posts at the door , we at once made our way to the bar-room . That apartment , which was in the rear of the building , and communicated with by a long , narrow passage , was filled almost to suffocation , when we entered , by a cloud of tobacco smoke , the fumes of bad whiskey , and a crowd of drunken chivalry , through whom the Colonel with great difficulty elbowed his way to the counter , where `` mine host '' and two assistants were dispensing `` liquid death , '' at the rate of ten cents a glass , and of ten glasses a minute . `` Hello , Cunnel , how ar ' ye , '' cried the red-faced liquor-vender , as he caught sight of my companion , and , relinquishing his lucrative employment for a moment , took the Colonel 's hand , `` how ar ' ye ? ''