“How about the rattle-bugs, Boss?” asked Sullivan, the malcontent. “There ain’t no rattlesnakes out in April. Besides, if there was, they would not bite your carcass,” answered McKay, irritated by the man’s attitude of continual grumbling. The men all busied themselves unrolling their blankets and looking for sheltered places in which to sleep. Loring was not accustomed to construction camps. He thought that for the white men, at least, sleeping accommodations must have been provided. “Where can I sleep?” he asked McKay. The latter grinned from one big ear to the other. “Say,” he drawled, “that’s good! Your hot bath ain’t ready though. Haven’t got any blankets, have you?” he added, relenting a bit. “Better crawl in with some one to-night. To-morrow, when I come down here from the copper camp, I’ll bring you a pair. I guess you won’t skip till you have done enough work to pay for them, as you won’t have money enough to vamos. And, say, I’ve got a swell hat that I will give you. It ain’t respectable or refined like not to have one.” The rough kindness touched Loring deeply, and he began to thank him warmly. McKay uttered a brisk good night and turned to walk up the trail which led to the main camp, two miles beyond. The Mexican whom the boss had knocked down at the station stepped suddenly forward. Expecting trouble, Loring jumped to his feet. He heard McKay say: “I guess the señorita won’t think much of your beauty now, will she, Manuel? I’ll send the doctor down in the morning to fix up that face of yours.” The Mexican, instead of rushing at McKay, exclaimed excitedly: “Oh, boss, you just like a father to me!” Still smiling at the sudden change of temper Loring lay down on the ground, and tried to sleep. The knife-like cold of the Arizona night made him shiver. Striving to keep warm, he rolled from side to side. Suddenly, from out of the darkness near him, he heard a soft laugh: “Hey, me bludder, Hop Wah got plenty blankets. Roll here!” Gratefully he crawled in between the Chinaman’s blankets. Wah looked at him curiously. “La la boom boom,” he crooned to himself. “Heap lot whisky.” Then he turned over and went peacefully to sleep.