My first thought was that I had struck some highly sensitive spot on my crystal and I tested it out only to find that wherever I put the wire point on it the signals came in just as clear and loud. I wondered. While I am not the seventh son of a son-of-a-gun nor do I claim any supernatural powers I got the _hunch_ that down here in tropic waters where insurrections are the rule and not the exception all was not as it should be. I told the Captain about it and while he didn’t take much stock in the idea he had a search made of the ship. One of the room stewards reported that he had found an electric cord with a plug end hanging from a lamp socket in room 138. It might have been for an electric iron, for a hot-water heater or any one of a dozen other electric appliances, he said, but it looked suspicious. A more thorough search of room 138, in which the Captain and I took part, revealed a heavy suit case under the bunk, which had a place to plug in the cord, another for the receivers, and a key--at least this was my theory. A strict watch was kept on the stateroom and I went back and sent _GA_, which was the call for “Alvarada” every few minutes. In the course of fifteen minutes or so I got the _OK_ of the operator at _GA_. The steward who had entered the stateroom adjoining the one occupied by the suspect heard the faintest sounds of sparks coming from it. After this report I made a careful examination of my aerial and found that the _leading-in_ wire from it which connected with my _aerial switch_ had been cut while the end of the wire from my instruments had been connected to a wire so small it could scarcely be seen and this wire led to stateroom 138. After connecting my instruments to the aerial again I immediately got in touch with the station at “Alvarada” and learned that no orders had been given by the Minister of War to change our port of destination. The Captain had the protesting passenger put in irons to be turned over to the government officials of Nicaragua and thus it was that another small insurrection was knocked in the head. I had filed an application with the _Marconi Company of America_ for a job on one of their transatlantic ships; it was in for nearly three months and I had long since concluded that it and I were pigeonholed. My great ambition now was to get a berth on one of the big ships that crossed the pond. Various operators had told me that it was useless to try to get in with the _Marconi Company_ because the latter employed only operators who received their training in the Marconi wireless schools abroad. Be that as it may on one of my return trips my father handed me a note from the Chief Engineer of the _Marconi Company_ to see him. I did so and the result of that interview gave me the post of Chief Wireless officer of the s. s. _Andalusian_, one of the largest ships of the _Blue Star Line_.