A good many incidents that were really worthy of note happened during Gus’s journey to Texas, but we have so many things to write about that are more interesting that we must pass them by without further notice. We have set out to tell what Gus did and how he enjoyed himself in Texas; and it will be enough now to say that he made the journey in safety; that Ned’s instructions were so plain and complete that he had no difficulty in finding his way; and that in due time the mail-coach deposited him on the verandah of the principal hotel in Palos. CHAPTER VI. A FRONTIER HOTEL. By the time Gus reached Palos he had lost a good deal of the “style” for which he had been noted in Foxboro’, and if some of the numerous acquaintances he had left there could have seen him when he stepped out of the stage and passed through the crowd of cattle-herders, ranchemen and idlers who had gathered on the verandah of the hotel to see the coach come in, they would hardly have taken him for Gus Robbins. If some of the boys who think so much of themselves could get out among entire strangers for a while they would very soon see how small is the space they occupy in the world, and how comparatively useless they are. This was just what Gus had been finding out. He had learned a good deal during his travels, and he had already seen the time when he would have been glad to face about and go back where he came from. The people he met were different in every way from those with whom he had been in the habit of associating. The majority of them were rough in person, dress and manners; and although they treated him civilly, and were always ready to answer his questions and give him all the information they could concerning the journey before him, Gus was afraid of them and felt like avoiding them as much as he could. The nearer he approached to the frontier the rougher the men became. A good many of them wore red shirts without any coats, high boots, carried revolvers in their belts and looked more like brigands than peaceable, law-abiding citizens. The crowd on the verandah were all armed; and although they stepped politely out of his way, Gus could not help shuddering as he passed through their ranks. The man who met him at the door and took his valise out of his hand, and who proved to be the landlord, looked worse than any of the rest. He wore no weapons, but the brace of navy six-shooters that were hung up in the office toward which he conducted his guest, showed that he was ready for any emergency. He looked equal to any emergency, too. He was a giant in size, very muscular, and the voice that came up from his broad chest was as loud as a steam-whistle. [Illustration: THE ARRIVAL AT PALOS.] “Can I obtain a night’s lodging here?” asked Gus. “I reckon ye kin, stranger,” roared the host. “Yer a Yank!”