Their positions were in marked contrast.

Joe stood erect, planted solidly on his feet, with legs wide apart and head up.

On the other hand, Simpson crouched till his head was nearly lost between his shoulders, and all the while he was in constant motion, leaping and springing and manoeuvering in the execution of a score or more of tricks quite new and strange to Joe.
At the end of a quarter of an hour, both were very tired, though Joe was much fresher.

Tobacco, ill food, and unhealthy living were telling on the gang-leader, who was panting and sobbing for breath.

Though at first (and because of superior skill) he had severely punished Joe, he was now weak and his blows were without force.