“What do you think of this?” panted Hal, who had struggled with a heavy load of luggage. Pepe and the guide went down to fetch up the remainder of the outfit. Ken thought it best to stand still until he knew just where he was. But Hal and George began moving about in the loft. It was very large and gloomy, and seemed open, yet full of objects. Hal jostled into something which creaked and fell with a crash. Then followed a yell, a jabbering of a frightened native, and a scuffling about. “Hal, what ’d you do?” called Ken, severely. “You can search me,” replied Hal Ward. “One thing--I busted my shin.” “He knocked over a bed with some one sleeping in it,” said George. Pepe arrived in the loft then and soon soothed the injured feelings of the native who had been so rudely disturbed. He then led the boys to their cots, which were no more than heavy strips of canvas stretched over tall frameworks. They appeared to be enormously high for beds. Ken’s was as high as his head, and Ken was tall for his age. “Say, I’ll never get up into this thing,” burst out Hal. “These people must be afraid to sleep near the floor. George, why are these cots so high?” “I reckon to keep the pigs and dogs and all that from sleeping with the natives,” answered George. “Besides, the higher you sleep in Mexico the farther you get from creeping, crawling things.” Ken had been of half a mind to sleep on the floor, but George’s remark had persuaded him to risk the lofty cot. It was most awkward to climb into. Ken tried several times without success, and once he just escaped a fall. By dint of muscle and a good vault he finally landed in the center of his canvas. From there he listened to his more unfortunate comrades. Pepe got into his without much difficulty. George, however, in climbing up, on about the fifth attempt swung over too hard and rolled off on the other side. The thump he made when he dropped jarred the whole loft. From the various growls out of the darkness it developed that the loft was full of sleepers, who were not pleased at this invasion. Then Hal’s cot collapsed, and went down with a crash. And Hal sat on the flattened thing and laughed. “Mucho malo,” Pepe said, and he laughed, too. Then he had to get out and put up Hal’s trestle bed. Hal once again went to climbing up the framework, and this time, with Pepe’s aid, managed to surmount it. “George, what does Pepe mean by _mucho malo_?” asked Hal. “Bad--very much bad,” replied George. “Nix--tell him nix. This is fine,” said Hal. “Boys, if you don’t want to sleep yourselves, shut up so the rest of us can,” ordered Ken. He liked the sense of humor and the good fighting spirit of the boys, and fancied they were the best attributes in comrades on a wild trip. For a long time he heard a kind of shuddering sound, which he imagined was Hal’s cot quivering as the boy laughed. Then absolute quiet prevailed, the boys slept, and Ken felt himself drifting.