“You shall sleep the sleep of the just, señors,” broke in the Mexican hotel keeper, coming up just as Jerry spoke. “My inn is full, every room is occupied, but you shall sleep en el sereno.”
“Well, as long as it’s on a good bed in a room where the mosquitoes can’t get in I shan’t mind that,” spoke Bob. “I don’t know as I care much for scenery, but if it goes with the bed, why, all right.”
“You’ll sleep in no room to-night,” said Professor Snodgrass, who for the moment was not busy hunting specimens. “By ‘en el sereno’ our friend means that you must sleep out of doors, under the stars. It is often done in this country. They put the beds out in the courtyard or garden and throw a mosquito net over them.”
“That’s good enough,” said Bob. “It won’t be the first time we’ve slept in the open. Bring on the ‘en el sereno,’” and he laughed, the innkeeper joining in.
The beds for the travelers were soon made up. They consisted of light cots of wood, with a few blankets on them. Placed out in the courtyard, under the trees, with the sky for a roof, the sleeping-places were indeed in the open.
But the boys and Professor Snodgrass had no fault to find. They had partaken of a good meal, they were tired with their day’s journey, and about nine o’clock voted to turn in.
“We’ll keep our revolvers handy this time,” said Bob, “though I guess we won’t need ’em.”
“Can’t be too sure,” was Ned’s opinion, as he took off his shoes and placed his weapon under his pillow.
It was not long before snores told that the travelers were sound asleep. For several hours the inn bustled with life, for the Mexicans did not seem to care much about rest. At length the place became quiet, and at midnight there was not a sound to be heard, save the noises of the forest, which was no great distance away, and the vibrations caused by the breathing of the slumberers.