The prisoner's good humor impressed Bull immensely.

Here was a man talking commonplaces in the face of death.

A greater man than Uncle Bill, he felt at once--a far greater man.

It was impossible to conceive of that keen, sharp eye and that clawlike hand sending a bullet far from the center of the target.
He gave his eyes long sight of that face, and then turned from the bars and went out with the sheriff.
"Is that your man ?" asked the sheriff.
"I dunno," said Bull, fencing for time as they stood in front of the jail.

"What'd he do ?" "You mean why he's in jail?
I'll tell you that, son, but first I want to know what you got agin' him--and your proofs--mostly your proofs!" The distaste which Bull had felt for the sheriff from the first now became overpowering.