There was blood on his face.

I knew Jim, liked him, had tried to make a friend of him.
I was not dead to the stinging interrogation in the concluding sentence of Steele's speech.

Then I felt sure I had correctly judged Steele's motive.

I began to warm to the situation.
"What's this I hear about you, Bud?
Get up and speak for yourself," said Sampson, gruffly.
Snell got up, not without a furtive glance at Steele, and he had shuffled forward a few steps toward the mayor.

He had an evil front, but not the boldness even of a rustler.
"It ain't so, Sampson," he began loudly.