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Chapter 1THE WEATHER DOOR OF THE SMOKING-ROOM HAD BEEN LEFT open to the North Atlantic fog, as the big liner rolled and lifted, whistling to warn the fishing-fleet."That Cheyne boy's the biggest nuisance aboard," said a man in a frieze overcoat, shutting the door with a bang. "He isn't wanted here. He's too fresh."A white-haired German reached for a sandwich, and grunted between bites: "I know der breed. Ameriga is full of dot kind. I dell you you should imbort ropes' ends free under your dariff.""Pshaw! There isn't any real harm to him. He's more to be pitied than anything,"