So the fright about a dead man barring the door was not much of a scare after all. At least, there was very small cause for disturbance, as a drunken person was not such an extraordinary thing to see in that house. Fox was allowed to remain where he was, Timmins having thrown an old quilt over him to keep him warm, saying that he would “be all right by the mornin’!” Mrs. Timmins, good woman that she was, rekindled a fire and prepared an excellent supper for the stranger, consisting of bacon and eggs, and baked potatoes with strong coffee, to which McKenna helped himself with unwonted relish. After satisfying his appetite, he and Timmins played a couple of games of euchre, took a few drinks from a keg kept in one corner, supported on a couple of sticks, and which was under the exclusive control of Mrs. Timmins—she sold the liquor to her customers from a tin cup—then the wet, weary, and sleepy traveler retired to his bed quite in the dark, in a room in the second story of the building, first having thrown his damp clothes down the staircase to Mr. Timmins, with a request that they be allowed to dry before the kitchen fire. Anthony Timmins and his wife kept what was known as a railroad boarding-house or tavern, for the accommodation of laborers employed on the adjacent tunnel, and a fair living, and something smart beside, did they realize from their trouble and toil, Mrs. Timmins being not at all assisted by the three tow-headed children which followed close to her heels wherever she went, and called her “mother.” The slumbers of the detective were sound and unbroken until the hour that the sunlight of another day fell full on his face and disturbed, and finally awakened him. Looking about, he discovered there were three beds in the low room—one, by way of compliment, devoted to his own particular use, while each of the others held two men, of whose presence the previous night he had been entirely ignorant. Waiting until his room-mates had gone out, McKenna went to the door and shouted to Timmins for his garments, which were soon brought up by that personage, wishing him at the same time “the top o’ the mornin’, an’ many happy returns of the same!” The clothing was warm and dry, and the officer felt greatly refreshed by his season of repose. At the breakfast-table he learned, not greatly to his surprise, that the company he had to keep was none of the most select; still it was as good as he had reason to anticipate under the circumstances. In fact, he thought if he should secure, for the future, equally decent associates, he might consider himself fortunate. The men about him asked no questions, but devoured their meal almost in silence, and then set out for their work on the tunnel.