There was a pause. Mrs. Hulver received a sudden shock. Her eyes had fallen on her husband's helmet which was lying on the camp cot. She had forgotten to put it away. Eola saw it and observed:
"Your son has forgotten his helmet, surely."
"That isn't my son's, miss! It belonged to his father. I got it out to show him the difference the authorities have made in the pattern. They are always changing, and it must cost the government something first and last. I have kept that old helmet as a momentum of my boy's father."
"I suppose out of all the three you liked him best."
"Well, miss, he was my choice. My first was my mother's choice, and my third chose me. You see, William, my second, left me with something else besides his helmet and that was young William."
Eola's attention was wandering and Mrs. Hulver was pleased to see that the helmet had not excited her curiosity.
"I want to tell you something; it is about Mr. Ananda," said Eola.
Mrs. Hulver started, but was not to be caught off her guard.
"To tell you the truth, miss; I am getting rather tired of Mr. Ananda's name. I dare say he has got safely away from Chirapore by this time if he isn't down the well. As William—that was my third—said when the barrack sweeper led him home from the canteen: 'Misfortune will find you queer friends in queer places.' If Mr. Ananda is still alive he has probably found some friend, queer or otherwise, to help him."
"You are right. When Mr. Alderbury reached home Mr. Ananda met him at the door."