"Lonnegan," said Mac in a thoughtful tone, "do you know I think a good deal more of you since you got this dog? I didn't know you were that human," and Mac changed his seat so that he could rest his hand on Chief's head.
"Lonnegan hasn't anything human about him," broke in Boggs, tugging at his collar to give his fat throat the more room; "not in your sense, Mac. If you will study the Great Architect as closely as I have done, you will see that his humanity is to always keep one point ahead of the social game." Here Boggs got up and moved his chair to the other side of the fireplace, so as to be out of reach of Lonnegan's long arms.
"Let me explain, gentlemen, for I don't want to do this distinguished man any injustice. You and I, Mac, being common-sense people, without any frills about us, wear just an ordinary plain scarf-pin—a horseshoe or a gold ball, or some such trifle. Lonnegan must have a scarab, or a coin two thousand years old; same thing in his dress, if you study him. You will note that his collars are an inch higher than ours, his scarfs twice as puffy, his coat-tails longer, his trouserloons more baggy—not offensively baggy, gentlemen," and he waved his hand to the coterie; "perhaps more unique in cut, so to put it. So it is with his dogs. This big St. Bernard, hulking along after the Great Architect when he takes his afternoon walks up and down the Avenue, is quite on a par with all Lonnegan's other frills. You and I would affect an inconspicuous canine—a poodle, a terrier, or a bull pup. Not so Lonnegan. He wants a dog as big as a mule. It's a better advertisement than two columns in a morning paper. 'My dear,' says a stout lady, built in two movements, to her husband at a theatre" (Boggs's imitation of a society woman's drawl was now inimitable), "'I saw such a magnificent St. Bernard coming up the Avenue. Belongs to Mr. Lonnegan, the architect. He certainly is a man of very exquisite taste. I think it would be a good idea for you to consult him about the plans for our——'"
"It's a better advertisement than two columns in a morning paper."
Lonnegan sprang from his seat and made a lunge at his tormentor with a look in his eyes as if he intended to throttle Boggs on the spot. At the same instant the great dog drew in his paws and rose to his feet, his eyes fixed on his master's movements—rose as an athlete rises, using the muscles of his knees and ankles to pull his body erect. If his master was in danger he was ready. Only smothered laughter, however, came from both Boggs and Lonnegan.
"I take it all back, Lonny," sputtered Boggs, trying to release himself from Lonnegan's grip. "The woman's husband wanted two country houses, not one. Call off your dog, I can't fight two brutes at once."