He was impatient with himself that his heart should fail him at the critical moment, but perhaps it was well it was so.
"You and I ought to be friends," he reflected, "and it is not my fault that we are not, however, I cannot shoot you down like a dog, though you deserve it." The emotion which checked him so unexpectedly, also prevented his renewing fire upon the Murhapas, who were really less guilty than he.
He had decided to await the next demonstration before discharging his gun again.
Jared Long was as vigilant and alert as his friend.

It may be doubted whether he would have spared Waggaman, had he been given the opportunity to draw bead on him.

He realized too vividly that the two defenders never would have been in this fearful situation but for the machinations of those two men.
It seemed to him that Bippo was curiously quiet.

He had not spoken, nor, so far as he could judge, moved since his own return from his brief conference with the Professor.
He pronounced his name in a low voice, but there was no reply.

A call in a louder tone also failed of response.
"I wonder whether he was killed ?" was the thought which led Long to leave his station at the door, and to set out on a tour of investigation around the room, using his hands and feet to aid him.
He expected every minute to come in contact with the lifeless figure of his helper, whom he supposed to have been pierced by the poisoned weapon of the Murhapa; but when he had passed around the apartment and across it several times, until assured that not a foot of square space had been neglected he awoke to the fact that Bippo was not there.
It was hardly probable that he had entered the front apartment, but he made inquiry of the Professor.