His lips never opened to a falsehood, or to commit an injustice, and the station was like an affirmation that the gospel is heard even said that he was even capable of testifying against his hand if he came.
 Serious, serious, few had ever seen a smile on his angular face, covered with a leathery complexion and dark, almost black, however, was talkative and cheerful leisure hours, and more than one of his adventures, almost novelistic, entertained long hours of waiting in the raids that together we had to take every night, and on the trail of a rogue who was studying the section, or already looking for a murderer who, after committing a felony, we had slipped through hands.
 How I admired the sagacity, the vividness, the fine tact and discretion of the old sergeant!
 Each of their inquiries, which he modestly called “jobs” was a watermark and were tempted to believe that would deal with the devil, anyone who, being in the secret of the matter, closely following its investigative procedures.
 - Who taught him to work, Sergeant? Because you will not have learned alone, I suppose?
 - No! … What hope! … I specifically brought a teacher from England, one of those tigers known to the head of thieves and murderers! … My teachers, my friend, are what you should have … if they want to count for something: the eyes, ears and legs!
 - I do not say no, but I have not seen! Last time, ten years ago, they brought one, and gave it to Commissioner Wright! … What man of the devil! I knew nothing and seemed to be going to eat the world! One night they did look at the police station a colonel who was visiting, and had dressed as a gaucho, and after giving him a thousand laps and bleach out the tongue and eyes, said he was a thief, murderer and arsonist.