Lacking in fascination

     "You may have asked yourself why I, though working in the heart of Hollywood for more than twenty years, have never married."

    It had not occurred to Mr. Llewellyn to ask himself this. Had he done so, he would have replied to himself that the solution of the mystery was that his old friend, though highly skilled in the practice of law, was short on fascination. Mr. Trout, in addition to being thin, had that dried-up look which so often comes to middle-aged lawyers. There was nothing dashing about him. He might have appealed to the comfortable, motherly type of woman, but these are rare in Hollywood.

(from Bachelors Anonymous, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Iron hand in a velvet glove

 And Cappy knew skippers. He could get more loyalty out of them with a mere pat on the back and a kindly word than could Mr. Skinner, with all his threats, nagging and driving, yet he was an employer who demanded a full measure of service and never permitted sentiment to plead for an incompetent.

(from Cappy Ricks, by Peter B. Ryne)

Ugly weakness

In a way he was beginning to detest John Gaspar as he had never detested any human being before or since. To him no sin was so great as the sin of weakness in a man, and certainly Gaspar was superlatively weak. He had something in place of courage, but just what that thing was, Sinclair could not tell. Curiosity drew him toward the fellow; and these weaknesses repulsed him.

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand) 

Highly suspicious behavior

They found the hotel wakening even at this early hour. At least, the Chinese cook was rattling in the kitchen as he built the fire. When the six reached the door of Sinclair's room, stepping lightly, they heard the occupant singing softly to himself.

"Early riser," whispered Denver Jim.

"Too early to be honest," replied Judge Lodge.

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand)

Wore plumb smack dab out!

 He registered and went in silence up to his room. If there had been the need, he could have kept on riding for a twenty-four hour stretch, but the moment he found his journey interrupted, he flung himself on the bed, his arms thrown out crosswise, crucified with weariness.

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand) I thought that final phrase was aptly descriptive.

An easy way of speaking

 His voice was surprisingly pleasant. He spoke very deliberately, so that one felt occasionally that he was pausing to find the right words. And, in addition to the quality of that deep voice, he had an impersonal way of looking his interlocutor squarely in the eye, a habit that pleased the men of the desert. On this occasion his companion responded at once with a grin.

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand)

The labor of walking

 It was bitter work walking through that sand. The heel crunched into it, throwing a strain heavily on the back of the thigh, and then the ball of the foot slipped back in the midst of a stride. Also the labor raised the temperature of the body incredibly. With no wind stirring it was suffocating. And the day was barely beginning!

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand)

A triple death

 Still Hal Sinclair could sing softly to his horse and to himself; and, though his companions cursed his singing, they blessed him for it in their hearts. Otherwise the whole, listening silence of the desert would have crushed them; otherwise the lure of the mountains would have maddened them and made them push on until their horses would have died within five miles of the labor; otherwise the pain in their slowly swelling throats would have taken their reason. For thirst in the desert carried the pangs of several deaths - death from fire, suffocation, and insanity.

(from The Rangeland Avenger, by Max Brand)