The face of Mr.John P.Dunster, even in unconsciousness, had something in it of strength and purpose.

The shape of his head, the squareness of his jaws, the straightness of his thick lips, all seemed to speak of a hard and inflexible disposition.

His hair was coal black, coarse, and without the slightest sprinkling of grey.

He had the neck and throat of a fighter.

But for that single, livid, blue mark across his forehead, he carried with him no signs of his accident.
He was a little inclined to be stout.