They seemed to be shallow, baffling.

Simmons did not permit his eyes to betray his thoughts.

He used them as masks to hide from prying eyes the things that he did not wish others to see.
"Come a-visitin', Lawler ?" asked Simmons as Lawler halted midway in the room and smiled faintly at the greeting he received.
"Not exactly, Simmons." "Not exactly, eh?
I reckon that means you've got some business.

I'll be glad to help you out--if I can." "I'm going to ship my stock East, Simmons, and I'm wanting cars for them--eight thousand head." Simmons still sat in the chair beside the window.

He now pursed his lips, drew his brows together and surveyed Lawler attentively.
"Eight thousand head, eh?
Sort of whooped 'em up this season, didn't you.