Once or twice Warrington felt a sudden longing to take off his coat and get into the fight; but the impulse was transitory.
He realized that he loved ease and comfort too well.
Finally he tossed aside the sheets and signaled to the dog.

It was a bull terrier, old and scarred, and unchanging in his affections.

He loved this master of his, even if he saw him but once a year.

They understood each other perfectly.

He was a peace-loving animal, but he was a fighter at times--like his master.