Gunman's Reckoning Page 3

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  But even though this major step was accomplished successfully, Lefty Joewas not the man to abandon caution in the midst of an enterprise. Theroar of the train would have covered sounds ten times as loud as thoseof his snaky approach, yet he glided forward with as much care as thoughhe were stepping on old stairs in a silent house. He could see a vagueshadow--Donnegan; but chiefly he worked by that peculiar sense ofdirection which some people possess in a dim light. The blind, ofcourse, have that sense in a high degree of sensitiveness, but eventhose who are not blind may learn to trust the peculiar and invertedsense of direction.

  With this to aid him, Lefty Joe went steadily, slowly across the firstand most dangerous stage of his journey. That is, he got away from thesquare of the open door, where the faint starlight might vaguely serveto silhouette his body. After this, it was easier work.

  Of course, when he alighted on the floor of the car, the knife had beentransferred from his teeth to his left hand; and all during his progressforward the knife was being balanced delicately, as though he were notyet quite sure of the weight of the weapon. Just as a prize fighterkeeps his deadly, poised hands in play, moving them as though he fearsto lose his intimate touch with them.

  This stalking had occupied a matter of split seconds. Now Lefty Joe roseslowly. He was leaning very far forward, and he warded against the rollof the car by spreading out his right hand close to the floor; his lefthand he poised with the knife, and he began to gather his muscles forthe leap. He had already taken the last preliminary movement--he hadswung himself to the right side a little and, lightening his left foot,had thrown all his weight upon the right--in fact, his body wasliterally suspended in the instant of springing, catlike, when theshadow which was Donnegan came to life.

  The shadow convulsed as shadows are apt to swirl in a green pool when astone is dropped into it; and a bit of board two feet long and someeight inches wide cracked against the shins of Lefty Joe.

  It was about the least dramatic weapon that could have been chosen underthose circumstances, but certainly no other defense could havefrustrated Lefty's spring so completely. Instead of launching out in acompact mass whose point of contact was the reaching knife, Leftycrawled stupidly forward upon his knees, and had to throw out his knifehand to save his balance.

  It is a singular thing to note how important balance is to men. Animalsfight, 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 evenwhile they are dropping through the air. But man needs poise and balancebefore he can act. What is speed in a fighter? It is not so much anaffair of the muscles as it is the power of the brain to adapt itselfinstantly to each new move and put the body in a state of balance. Inthe prize ring speed does not mean the ability to strike one lightningblow, but rather that, having finished one drive, the fighter is inposition to hit again, and then again, so that no matter where theimpetus of his last lunge has placed him he is ready and poised to shootall his weight behind his fist again and drive it accurately at avulnerable spot. Individually the actions may be slow; but the series ofefforts seem rapid. That is why a superior boxer seems to hypnotize hisantagonist with movements which to the spectator seem perfectly easy,slow, and sure.

  But if Lefty lacked much in agility, he had an animallike sense ofbalance. Sprawling, helpless, he saw the convulsed shadow that wasDonnegan take form as a straight shooting body that plunged through theair above him. Lefty Joe dug his left elbow into the floor of the carand whirled back upon his shoulders, bunching his knees high over hisstomach. Nine chances out of ten, if Donnegan had fallen flatwise uponthis alert enemy, he would have received those knees in the pit of hisown stomach and instantly been paralyzed. But in the jumping, rattlingcar even Donnegan was capable of making mistakes. His mistake in thisinstance saved his life, for springing too far, he came down not inreaching distance of Lefty's throat, but with his chest on the knees ofthe older tramp.

  As a result, Donnegan was promptly kicked head over heels and tumbledthe length of the car. Lefty was on his feet and plunging after thetumbling form in the twinkling of an eye, literally speaking, and he wasonly kept from burying his knife in the flesh of his foe by a sway ofthe car that staggered him in the act of striking. Donnegan, the nextinstant, was beyond reach. He had struck the end of the car andrebounded like a ball of rubber at a tangent. He slid into the shadows,and Lefty, putting his own shoulders to the wall, felt for his revolverand knew that he was lost. He had failed in his first surprise attack,and without surprise to help him now he was gone. He weighed hisrevolver, decided that it would be madness to use it, for if he missed,Donnegan would instantly be guided by the flash to shoot him full ofholes.

  Something slipped by the open door--something that glimmered faintly;and Lefty Joe knew that it was the red head of Donnegan. Donnegan,soft-footed as a shadow among shadows. Donnegan on a blood trail. Itlowered the heartbeat of Lefty Joe to a tremendous, slow pulse. In thatmoment he gave up hope and, resigning himself to die, determined tofight to the last gasp, as became one of his reputation and nationalcelebrity on "the road."

  Yet Lefty Joe was no common man and no common fighter. No, let the shadeof Rusty Dick, whom Lefty met and beat in his glorious prime--let thisshade arise and speak for the prowess of Lefty Joe. In fact it wasbecause he was such a good fighter himself that he recognized hishelplessness in the hands of Donnegan.

  The faint glimmer of color had passed the door. It was dissolved indeeper shadows at once, and soundlessly; Lefty knew that Donnegan wascloser and closer.

  Of one thing he felt more and more confident, that Donnegan did not havehis revolver with him. Otherwise, he would have used it before. For whatwas darkness to this devil, Donnegan. He walked like a cat, and mostlikely he could see like a cat in the dark. Instinctively the oldertramp braced himself with his right hand held at a guard before hisbreast and the knife poised in his left, just as a man would prepare tomeet the attack of a panther. He even took to probing the darkness in astrange hope to catch the glimmer of the eyes of Donnegan as he moved tothe attack. If there were a hair's breadth of light, then Donneganhimself must go down. A single blow would do it.

  But the devil had instructed his favorite Donnegan how to fight. He didnot come lunging through the shadows to meet the point of that knife.Instead, he had worked a snaky way along the floor and now he leaped inand up at Lefty, taking him under the arms.

  A dozen hands, it seemed, laid hold on Lefty. He fought like a demon andtore himself away, but the multitude of hands pursued him. They weresmall hands. Where they closed they tore the clothes and bit into hisvery flesh. Once a hand had him by the throat, and when Lefty jerkedhimself away it was with a feeling that his flesh had been seared byfive points of red-hot iron. All this time his knife was darting; onceit ripped through cloth, but never once did it find the target. And halfa second later Donnegan got his hold. The flash of the knife as Leftyraised it must have guided the other. He shot his right hand up behindthe left shoulder of the other and imprisoned the wrist. Not only did itmake the knife hand helpless, but by bearing down with his own weightDonnegan could put his enemy in most exquisite torture.

  For an instant they whirled; then they went down, and Lefty was on top.Only for a moment. The impetus which had sent him to the floor was usedby Donnegan to turn them over, and once fairly on top his left hand wasinstantly at the throat of Lefty.

  Twice Lefty made enormous efforts, but then he was done. About his bodythe limbs of Donnegan were twisted, tightening with incredible force;just as hot iron bands sink resistlessly into place. The strangle-holdcut away life at its source. Once he strove to bury his teeth in the armof Donnegan. Once, as the horror caught at him, he strove to shriek forhelp. All he succeeded in doing was in raising an awful, sobbingwhisper. Then, looking death in the face, Lefty plunged into the greatdarkness.