“We got it!” he told Mr. Paget. “Mr. Marconi got the signal first and then handed the head-phone to me. I heard the three dots several times in succession quite clearly.” The three dots forming the letter _S_ were those agreed upon by Mr. Marconi and his operators at the Poldhu station before he left England, as being the best signal to send out. “Fine, old top,” exclaimed Mr. Paget, or words to that effect. Mr. Kemp then went back to the barracks and in another half hour he emerged again and told Mr. Paget that the signals were still coming in and that there wasn’t the slightest doubt but that they came from Poldhu. He said that Mr. Marconi had asked that the kite be kept up for another hour if possible. The wind grew more blustery than before, but anything was possible now for nothing so makes for success as a little success. The aerial was often more nearly horizontal than vertical, but Mr. Marconi got the signals as they were flashed out by Poldhu just the same. This ended our work for the day--that never-to-be-forgotten 12th of December. The next day we flew the big kite using the aerial wire for a string again, for Poldhu had been instructed to keep on sending the letter _S_. The three short dots were sent out right along with short intervals between them, but the kite would take a header every time it was hit by a gust of wind and this would bring the aerial wire down so low the signals could not be heard, and, again, the receiver had to be kept in close adjustment. After these last tests we hauled in the kite and then came the soft job of packing up the stuff. While we were doing this I threw a bomb into Mr. Marconi’s camp by telling Mr. Paget that I was Jack Heaton, the former chief wireless officer on the _Andalusian_. He told Mr. Kemp and they both smiled. “Well, bless my heart, old man,” he said with about as much show of emotion as I do now in repeating it to you. “I rather thought, don’t you know, that you were as smart as paint--too smart to be trundling boxes around on a bally goods wagon. Who told you to come up here?” “No one, Mr. Kemp, I just wanted to work under Mr. Marconi so that I could say I had done so and I came up from New York of my own accord.” “Well, bless my old soul!” Mr. Kemp continued, which was his way of expressing his opinion of the _nerve_ I had shown. I kept right on packing up the stuff under the direction of the two assistants and after a while when Mr. Marconi came over Mr. Kemp spoke to him. “I say, Mr. Marconi, this chap is Jack Heaton who was the operator on the _Andalusian_ when she went down. He says he came up here to work with you. I don’t know who took him on; I didn’t and Mr. Paget says he didn’t.” “Mr. Marconi, I’m mighty glad to meet you,” I said and held out my hand. He grasped it firmly and shook it just once and that was worth another million dollars. What’s that? Well, it was worth a hundred anyhow.