He sat erect in the saddle, a cavalier figure with his long, well-drilled mustaches.
"I dunno," said Bull vaguely, pushing his hat back to scratch his thatch of blond hair.

"I didn't know I was celebrating, particular." The sheriff watched him with small, evil eyes.

"You been snooping around, son," he said coldly.

"And we folks in this part, we don't like snoopers.

Understand ?" "No," said Bull frankly, "I don't exactly figure what you mean." Then he dropped his hand to his hip.
"Git your hand off that gun!" said the sheriff, his own weapon flashing instantly in the light.
It had been a move like lightning.