Gunmans Reckoning | Page 5

the floor of the car. He remained as he had fallen; crouched,
alert, with one hand spread out on the boards to balance him and give him a leverage and
a start in case he should wish to spring in any direction.
Then he began to probe the darkness in every direction; with every glance he allowed his
head to dart out a little. The movement was like a chicken pecking at imaginary grains of
corn. But eventually he satisfied himself that his quarry lay in the forward end of the car;
that he was prone; that he, Lefty, had accomplished nine-tenths of his purpose by entering
the place of his enemy unobserved.
3
But even though this major step was accomplished successfully, Lefty Joe was not the
man to abandon caution in the midst of an enterprise. The roar of the train would have
covered sounds ten times as loud as those of his snaky approach, yet he glided forward
with as much care as though he were stepping on old stairs in a silent house. He could see
a vague shadow--Donnegan; but chiefly he worked by that peculiar sense of direction
which some people possess in a dim light. The blind, of course, have that sense in a high
degree of sensitiveness, but even those who are not blind may learn to trust the peculiar
and inverted sense of direction.
With this to aid him, Lefty Joe went steadily, slowly across the first and most dangerous
stage of his journey. That is, he got away from the square of the open door, where the
faint starlight might vaguely serve to silhouette his body. After this, it was easier work.
Of course, when he alighted on the floor of the car, the knife had been transferred from
his teeth to his left hand; and all during his progress forward the knife was being balanced

delicately, as though he were not yet quite sure of the weight of the weapon. Just as a
prize fighter keeps his deadly, poised hands in play, moving them as though he fears to
lose his intimate touch with them.
This stalking had occupied a matter of split seconds. Now Lefty Joe rose slowly. He was
leaning very far forward, and he warded against the roll of the car by spreading out his
right hand close to the floor; his left hand he poised with the knife, and he began to gather
his muscles for the leap. He had already taken the last preliminary movement--he had
swung himself to the right side a little and, lightening his left foot, had thrown all his
weight upon the right--in fact, his body was literally suspended in the instant of springing,
catlike, when the shadow which was Donnegan came to life.
The shadow convulsed as shadows are apt to swirl in a green pool when a stone is
dropped into it; and a bit of board two feet long and some eight inches wide cracked
against the shins of Lefty Joe.
It was about the least dramatic weapon that could have been chosen under those
circumstances, but certainly no other defense could have frustrated Lefty's spring so
completely. Instead of launching out in a compact mass whose point of contact was the
reaching knife, Lefty crawled stupidly forward upon his knees, and had to throw out his
knife hand to save his balance.
It is a singular thing to note how important balance is to men. Animals fight, as a rule,
just as well on their backs as they do on their feet. They can lie on their sides and bite;
they can swing their claws even while they are dropping through the air. But man needs
poise and balance before he can act. What is speed in a fighter? It is not so much an affair
of the muscles as it is the power of the brain to adapt itself instantly to each new move
and put the body in a state of balance. In the prize ring speed does not mean the ability to
strike one lightning blow, but rather that, having finished one drive, the fighter is in
position to hit again, and then again, so that no matter where the impetus of his last lunge
has placed him he is ready and poised to shoot all his weight behind his fist again and
drive it accurately at a vulnerable spot. Individually the actions may be slow; but the
series of efforts seem rapid. That is why a superior boxer seems to hypnotize his
antagonist with movements which to the spectator seem perfectly easy, slow, and sure.
But if Lefty lacked much in agility, he had an animallike sense of balance. Sprawling,
helpless, he saw the convulsed shadow that was Donnegan take form as a straight