Come on, and I'll show you the way.

When morning comes I'll rout you out and take my turn." Keith had enjoyed considerable experience in frontier hotels, but nothing before had ever quite equalled this, the pride of Sheridan.
The product of a mushroom town, which merely existed by grace of the temporary railway terminus, it had been hastily and flimsily constructed, so it could be transported elsewhere at a moment's notice.
Every creak of a bed echoed from wall to wall.

The thin partitions often failed to reach the ceiling by a foot or two, and the slightest noise aroused the entire floor.

And there was noise of every conceivable kind, in plenty, from the blare of a band at the Pioneer Dance Hall opposite, to the energetic cursing of the cook in the rear.

A discordant din of voices surged up from the street below--laughter, shouts, the shrieks of women, a rattle of dice, an occasional pistol shot, and the continuous yelling of industrious "barkers." There was no safety anywhere.