“For Heaven’s sake, Forge, old man—what’s the trouble? You’ve been groaning horribly the last five hours. It’s almost more than a fellow can stand, to hear you.” “It’s all that coffee I drank,” apologized Nat. “I shouldn’t have taken so much. I’m sorry!” But it was not the coffee. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XIV SUNSHINE GLORIOUS I But Nathan had one more terrific experience to suffer before he was finished with the Russian bedlam,—an experience and an aftermath beside which all that has gone before—everything!—pales into insignificance and becomes as nothing. And like most stupendous experiences in life, it came when least expected, certainly unannounced. Nathan reached that great tenth day of October, 1918. “It was the turning point—the hinge!—of my whole life, Bill,” he has said to me since. “I wouldn’t have missed it for a million dollars, but whether I’d take a million dollars to go through with it again—it’s a question, Bill—it’s a question!” II At the Consulate the following morning he met Roach. The young courier was delighted with a companion the balance of that hectic journey. One week later they were on their way. Nathan had recuperated quickly during that week. Plenty of food, _plenty of soap and water_, the chance to shave every morning—simple things—had given him a new lease on life. Nathan had changed, anyway, during that year with the Czechs. Mental troubles had stopped bothering. He had far more to worry him than his culture. Despite his physical hardships, the young man had added weight. Hard, healthy exercise in the open, soldier fare, rough living, had toughened him. He was a stripling no longer. He had learned to walk erectly. His shoulders were square, almost burly. And his face——