But always they had
been about the city where he could call upon the seemingly
exhaustless store of apparatus in his laboratory. Here we were
faced by the proposition with nothing to rely on but our native
wit and a couple of guns.
Besides, I did not know whether to count on Lockwood as an ally or
not. My estimation of him had been rising and falling like the
barometer in a summer shower. I had been convinced that he was
against us. But his manner and plausibility now equally convinced
me that I had been mistaken. I felt that it would take some
supreme action on his part to settle the question. That crisis was
coming now.
I think all of us would willingly have pushed Alfonso forward. But
the relations of the de Moches with Whitney had been so close that
I no more trusted him than I did Lockwood. And if I could not make
out Lockwood, a man at least of our own race and education, how
could I expect to fathom Alfonso?
It seemed, then, to rest with Kennedy and myself. At least so
Craig appraised the situation.
"You have a gun, Walter," he directed, "Lockwood, give yours to
Jameson."
Lockwood hesitated. Could he trust being unarmed, while Kennedy
and I had all the weapons?
Craig had not stopped to ask Alfonso.
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