Isn't that hell ?" "I'll say so, Buddy," returned Lane, with a laugh.
"Read this," said Blair, taking a paper from his pocket, and indicating a column.
Whereupon Lane read a brief Associated Press dispatch from Washington, D.C., stating that one Payson, disabled soldier of twenty-five, suffering with tuberculosis caused by gassed lungs, had come to Washington to make in person a protest and appeal that had been unanswered in letters.

He wanted money from the government to enable him to travel west to a dry climate, where doctors assured him he might get well.

He made his statement to several clerks and officials, and waited all day in the vestibule of the department.

Suddenly he was seized with a hemorrhage, and, falling on the floor, died before aid could be summoned.
Without a word Lane handed the paper back to his friend.
"Red was a queer duck," said Blair, rather hoarsely.

"You remember when I 'phoned you last over two weeks ago ?...