Jimsy was visibly and laboriously working it out. "Then, she's only sticking to me because she thinks I'm worth saving. If she thought I was a regular 'Wild King,' if she believed what her mother and a lot of other people have always believed, she'd let go of me." "I believe she would," said Carter. "Then," said Jimsy King, "it's really pretty simple. She's only got to realize--to _see_--that I'm not worth 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.