Therefore, I said nothing to any one but quietly hopped on a train for St. Johns, and trusted to luck for the rest. Did you ever notice, Mr. Collins, that when you make up your mind to do a certain thing and you try as hard as you can to do it, good luck generally meets you somewhere along the road and gives you a lift? Well, when I got to St. Johns, it was the 3rd of December, 1901. I went into a second hand store and bought an outfit of clothes so that I would look like the rest of the working people up there; and when I put them on I flattered myself that I did; my face and hands tanned in the tropics helping out _quite some_. I learned that Marconi and his assistants had not arrived nor had any one heard that they were to come. I figured it out that their coming was either a secret or a hoax--in fact, I was inclined to the latter belief; and I had great fears I was on a wild-goose chase and that I had spent about half a million of my hard-earned Brazilian _reis_ for nothing. I stuck around though, and on the 6th who should come to town but the inventor of the wireless telegraph, though to look at him you would not have suspected it. I did not make known to his assistants that I was an operator but when the boxes and hamper which contained his instruments were unloaded I jumped in and helped to put them on the wagon. Mr. Marconi--now that I had seen him he was Mr.--and one of his assistants left and the other remained behind to look after the bags and baggage. He thought I was the helper of the driver of the dray and the driver thought I was one of the assistants--or at least that’s what I thought they thought. At any rate when we got the dray loaded I just naturally jumped on and went with them. Mr. Kemp, the assistant, instructed the driver to go to Signal Hill, which is about half-a-mile from St. Johns and right at the mouth of the harbor. When we got there I was nearly frozen but I buckled right down and helped the drayman to unload the stuff and to carry it into the barracks. When he had been paid and was ready to go I said to the driver, “guess I’ll stay and help around,” and when he said “all right,” I knew that matters were pretty well fixed. From that time on I made myself generally useful as a first class roustabout. While Mr. Kemp and I were busy unpacking the apparatus, kites and balloons, Mr. Marconi and Mr. Paget came in. The inventor wore a fur cap and a fur trimmed overcoat. He took these off, just like a common everyday man, and stood by for a moment looking on. He didn’t say anything and you can bet your last Brazilian _reis_ that I kept my mouth shut. Now and then, though, I took a good look at him for he was, indeed, no lesser personage than the great inventor of the wireless telegraph--Guglielmo Marconi!