Chapter 9
LILLIAN-MANILL"You sent fer me, Miss?" asked Bull, as he stepped into the
office the following morning, his hat in his hand, his chaps
loose-buckled about his trim hips, his two big six-guns a trifle
forward against the need for quick action, the black silk
handkerchief falling over the blue shirt that stretched to his deep
chest, and his thick, black hair pushed back in -an unconscious,
half pompadour.
From silver-mounted spurs to heavy hat band he was typical of
the West of his day. There was no item of his clothing or equipment
the possession of which was not prompted by utilitarian
considerations. There was ornamentation, but it was obviously
secondary to the strict needs of his calling. Nothing that he wore
was shabby, yet it all showed use to an extent that mad
