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