d class? That
would be asking too much of Fortune! Let it be added here that Dan was
returning in the second-cabin not because--as he was to hear so many
times on that voyage!--there was no room in the first, but because by
doing so, he had saved the money for an extra week of travel.

He found more arrivals in the office when he left the table, and a
formidable array of baggage, which was presently loaded on vans and
trundled away toward the waiting tender. He paid his bill, collected the
two suit-cases which constituted his total impedimenta, saw them safely
off for the pier, tipped the porter, and left the hotel. The whistle of
the tender was blowing shrilly, and, when he reached the pier, he saw
far out at sea the smudge of smoke against the sky, which told that one
of the steamers was approaching. He boarded the tender, assured a
medical inspector that he was an American citizen and so did not need to
have his eyes examined, dug his suit-cases out of the pile of luggage,
and found himself a seat near the bow of the boat. Presently the special
boat-train rolled in along the pier and disgorged the final quota of
passengers.

Ten minutes later, with a shrill toot, the tender backed away and headed
out across the harbour. With a queer feeling, half of sorrow, half of
joy, Dan looked back at the receding shore, telling himself that the
next soil his feet touched would be that of America.

A mile out, the great liner lay waiting, impressively huge as seen from
the deck of the little tender, and presently they were alongside and
filing through an open port. A steward grabbed his suit-cases, the
instant he was on board, asked the number of his room, led him to it
along interminable passages, and left him to make himself at home.

There were two berths in it, and, as he had paid for only one of them,
he knew that, at this crowded season, he could scarcely hope to have the
whole room to himself. But there was as yet no sign of any other
occupant, so Dan, thrusting his bags under the lower berth, went on deck
again. The last of the baggage and mail was being lifted aboard by a
block and tackle, worked by a donkey engine, and, even as Dan looked,
the tender tooted its whistle, cast loose, and backed away, and suddenly
beneath his feet Dan felt the quiver which told that the screws had
started. Slowly the great ship swung around and headed away into the
west toward the setting sun--and toward "the land of freedom." How that