Whereas the full, deep, slow, musical voice of Bull Hunter was a veritable sleep producer.

Men might fear Charlie Bull Hunter because of his tremendous bulk; but children, hearing his voice, were unafraid.
The motions of Pete Reeve were as fast and as deft as the whiplash striking of a snake.

The motions of Bull Hunter were premeditated and cautious, as befitting one whose hands might crush what they touched, and whose footfall made a flooring groan.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall.

They had moved a ponderous stool into the room so that Bull might have something on which to sit, but long habit had made him uneasy in a chair, and he kept to the floor by preference, with the great square chin resting on his fist and his knee supporting his elbow.

That position pressed the forearm against the biceps and the big muscles bulged out on either side, vast as the thigh of a strong man.
With lionlike wrinkles of attention between his eyes, he listened to the exposition of the little man, and followed his movements with patient submission--like a pupil to whom a great master has consented to unfold the secrets of his brushwork; in such a manner did Bull Hunter drink in the words and the acts of Pete Reeve.