Ah, if only he had that keen, embarrassing eye of Bill Campbell with which to pierce to the guilty heart of the sheriff and make him speak! The eye of his uncle was like the eye of a crowd.

It was an audience in itself and condemned or praised with the strength of numbers.
It was this thought of numbers that brought the clue to a possible solution to Bull Hunter.

When it came to him he stopped short in the road, threw back his head and laughed.
"And what's all the celebration about ?" asked a voice behind him.
He turned and found Sheriff Anderson on his horse directly behind him.
The soft loam of the trail had covered the sound of the sheriffs approach.

Bull blushed with a sudden sense of shame.

Moreover, the sheriff seemed unapproachably stern and dignified.