He and Harris were good friends, for he had received the wound that crippled him in saving the sheriff from assassination.

Harris killed the man who had fired that shot, and from this episode on the burning desert grew a friendship that was as strong as their own natures.
Harris was very well liked by the majority and feared by the rest, for he was a square man and the best sheriff the county had ever known.
Quiet and unassuming, small of stature and with a kind word for every one, he was a universal favorite among the better class of citizens.
Quick as a flash and unerring in his shooting, he was a nightmare to the "bad men." No profane word had ever been known to leave his lips, and he was the possessor of a widespread reputation for generosity.

His face was naturally frank and open; but when his eyes narrowed with determination it became blank and cold.

When he saw his young friend sidle over to him he smiled and nodded a hearty welcome.
"They's shore cuttin' her loose," remarked Hopalong.
"First two pairs forward an' back!--they shore is," responded the prompter.
"Who's th' gent playin' lady to Buck ?" Queried Hopalong.
"Forward again an' ladies change!--Billy Jordan." Hopalong watched the couple until they swung around and then he laughed silently.

"Buck's got too many feet," he seriously remarked to his friend.
"Swing th' girl yu loves th' best!--he ain't lonesome, look at that--" Two shots rang out in quick succession and Harris stumbled, wheeled and pitched forward on his face as Hopalong's sombrero spun across his body.