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 shooting body that plunged through the
air above him. Lefty Joe dug his left elbow into the floor of the car
and whirled back upon his shoulders, bunching his knees high over his
stomach. Nine chances out of ten, if Donnegan had fallen flatwise upon
this alert enemy, he would have received those knees in the pit of his
own stomach and instantly been paralyzed. But in the jumping, rattling
car even Donnegan was capable of making mistakes. His mistake in this
instance saved his life, for springing too far, he came down not in
reaching distance of Lefty's throat, but with his chest on the knees of
the older tramp.

As a result, Donnegan was promptly kicked head over heels and tumbled