They entered a large inn kept by a Frenchman. Many men were sitting about drinking or smoking. Middleton ordered lemonade for the three, and they sat at a small table in the corner, observing the life of the place. Phil’s attention was presently attracted to another small table near them, at which a single man sat. His gaze would not have lingered there, had it not been for this man’s peculiar appearance. His age might have been thirty-five, more or less, and his figure was powerful. His face was burned almost black by a sun that could not have been anything but ardent, but his features and his blue eyes showed him to be American of a fair race. His clothes were poor, and he looked depressed. Yet the stranger was not without a certain distinction, an air as of one who did not belong there in an inn. Something in the blue eyes told of wild freedom and great spaces. He interested Phil more than anybody else in the room. He felt that here was another man whom he could like. The talk about them drifted quite naturally upon the subject of the West, what Texas was going to do, what Mexico was going to do, the great trail toward the Pacific, and the prospect of trouble between the United States and Mexico. The shabby man raised his head and showed interest. His eyes began to glow. He was not more than three feet away, and Phil, prompted by a sort of instinct, spoke to him. "It seems that all eyes turn toward the West now," he said. "Yes," replied the stranger, "and they’re right. It’s out there that the great things lie." He moved his hand with a slight but significant gesture toward the setting sun. "I’ve been there once," he said, "and I want to go back." "A man takes his life in his hands when he travels that way," said Phil. "I know," replied the stranger, "but I’m willing to risk it. I must go back there. I want to look for something, something very particular." Phil started. Here was a fourth who sought some darling wish of his heart in that far mysterious West. He felt a strange influence. It seemed to him a sign, or rather a command that must be obeyed. He glanced at Middleton and Arenberg, who had been listening, and, understanding him perfectly, they nodded. "We three are going into the West, also, on errands of our own," said Phil. "Why not join us? Three are good, but four are better." "It iss a fair proposition," added Arenberg. "No harm iss done where none iss meant." "We make the offer," said Middleton, "because on such a journey one needs friends. If you do not think you can trust us, as our acquaintance is so short, say so." The man examined them keenly, one by one. Phil, looking with equal keenness at him, saw that, despite shabbiness of dress and despondency of manner, he was not a common man. In truth, as he looked, the depression seemed to be passing away. The stranger raised his head, threw back his shoulders, and the blue eyes began to glow.