About to throw himself sideways and, if he avoided the attack, turn his Colt on his assailant, Smith saw Woodstole swing away from him. Swirling around on his right foot, the Englishman whipped the knife forward parallel to the ground. Giving a sharp, snapping motion to his wrist, he flung his weapon in Arnie Sheppey’s direction. Doing so caused it to spin around on a slightly upwards plane and pass through the air with an audible ‘whoosh!’. Luck, or an accurate estimation of distance and the revolutions of the knife, caused the blade to be swinging inwards as it reached the man. Razor-sharp steel sliced into Sheppey’s Adam’s apple, the weight of the knife and its spinning flight’s momentum driving it deeper and deeper. Dropping the smoking, uncocked revolver, he clawed unavailingly at the strangely-shaped weapon which protruded from his throat. With his life’s blood spurting from the wound, he tottered around in a crazy circle and collapsed Struck by Tod’s staggering body as he cut loose, the third man knew that he had missed Smith.
