hanging on to; that it's too late.
That's all."

"What do you mean?"

He walked over to the little table and picked up the decanter of whisky
and looked at it, and the scorn and loathing in his ravaged young face
were things to marvel at, but Honor Carmody, coming into the room at
that moment, could not see his expression. His back was toward her and
she saw the decanter in his hand.

"_Jimsy!_" She said it very low, catching her breath.

His first motion was to put it down but instead he held it up to the
fast fading light at the window and grinned. "It's makin' faces at me,
Skipper!"

"_Jimsy_," she said again, and this time he put it down.

Honor began hastily to talk. "Do you think Juan will try to come back,
or will he wait and come with the soldiers?"

"He'll come back," said Jimsy with conviction. "He must have found the
wires down at the first place he tried, or he'd have been here before
this. Yes--as soon as he's got his message through, he'll come back to
us. I hope to God he brings water."

"But did he realize about the well? He got away at the very first, you
know, and they weren't holding the well, then."

"He'll have his own canteen, won't he?" said Jimsy crossly.

Honor's eyes mothered him. "Mrs. King really slept," she said
cheerfully. "She said she had a good nap, and dreamed!" She sat down in
a low chair and made herself relax comfortably; only her eyes were
tense. She never did fussy things with her hands, Honor Carmody; no one
had ever seen her with a needle or a crochet hook. She was either doing
things, vital, definite things which required motion, or she was still,
and she rested people who were near her. "Well, he'll be here soon
then," she said contentedly. "And so will the soldiers. Our Big Boss
will have us on his mind, Jimsy. He'll figure out some way to help us.
Just think--in another day--perhaps in another hour, this will all be
over, like a nightmare, and we'll be back to regular living again. And
_won't_ we be glad that we all stood it so decently?" It was a stiff,
small smile with her cracked lips but a stout one. "You know, I'm pretty
proud of all of us! And won't Stepper be proud of us? And your dad,
Jimsy, and your mother, Cartie!" Her kind eyes warmed. "I'm glad she
hasn't had to know about it until we're all safe again." She was so
hoarse that she had to stop and rest and she looked hopefully from one
to the other, clearly expecting them to take up the burden of talk.