A mission- pt2 the lonely motel

We had walked a good deal further than usual, and it was after ten p.m. when we stopped to rest.  I had never been in this part of Meltolot before, but Coale said he knew where we were.  On spotting a light ahead, I proposed walking just a little further until we had reached it.  He agreed saying, "Yes, perhaps it is an inn, we can fill our canteens and eat a morsel before going on."  When we arrived at the motel, for motel it was, I noticed that at one of the windows in the second story, a face appeared for an instant and then quickly withdrew.  Passing through the lobby, we went into the saloon, and asked for a sandwich and a pint of water each.  Although the saloon was supposed to be open all hours, the bartender was asleep on the job and we had to wake him up before placing our orders.  While we sat down to fill our canteens and eat our sandwiches, Coale held a subdued conversation with the bartender.  I, not much interested in the conversation, which was mainly about sports and politics, glanced about the room.  It was an old fashioned room, one solitary lamp hung down from the ceiling and cast a soft glow about the place.  There were several small round tables scattered here and there, a few of them being occupied by a lone man, drunk or sleeping I know not.  The chairs were all different, no two being alike, they were scattered, like the tables, randomly about the room, some of them were pushed in neatly around their table, and some lay as if shoved roughly aside, or flung recklessly at the victorious opponent in a game of cards.  Altogether the room gave the appearance of disorder and had an uneasy feeling about it.  My mind turned to the face which I had seen at the window outside.  It was an evil face my mind decided, it may have been the flickering shadows cast by the street lamp that gave me the impression of the narrow eyes, a tall forehead, and the long crooked nose, but still, I did not like that face.  Something about the way in which it hastily withdrew from sight, gave me the impression that it was spying on me, rather than casually glancing to see who would be traveling at such a late hour.  I felt a shiver run through my spine and rose to go.  Coale was not quite done eating his sandwich, but I waited standing, for him to be done.  After a time that to me seemed long Coale rose and, as usual, paid the for the food, this time the name he gave was Sam Mintrent.