The tone of Pete Reeve
was pitched a little high, hard, and somewhat nasal, and when he was
angry his words came shrill and ringing. The mere sound of his voice
was irritating--it put one on edge with expectancy of action. Whereas
the full, deep, slow, musical voice of Bull Hunter was a veritable
sleep producer. Men might fear Charlie Bull Hunter because of his
tremendous bulk; but children, hearing his voice, were unafraid.
The motions of Pete Reeve were as fast and as deft as the whiplash
striking of a snake. The motions of Bull Hunter were premeditated and
cautious, as befitting one whose hands might crush what they touched,
and whose footfall made a flooring groan.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall. They had
moved a ponderous stool into the room so that Bull might have
something on which to sit, but long habit had made him uneasy in a
chair, and he kept to the floor by preference, with the great square
chin resting on his fist and his knee supporting his elbow.
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