Then he told how much farther a musical sound could travel than could an unmusical one. Then he outlined vaguely the value and nature of his invention which would substitute one sound for the other, and make of the Siren a blessing on land as well as on the water. He carried his audience with him and, when he closed his address, flushed and earnest, his hand was grasped heartily by a large proportion of those present. There was a brief debate, but it was nearly all one way, and it was decided, that the Presidents of the Vessel Owners Association and the Tug Owners Association should form a committee of two, to proceed at once to Washington and there secure from the right department permission for the trying of Hannibal's experiment. Furthermore there was contributed on the spot a sum sufficient, in Hannibal's estimation, for the execution of his plan. Within two weeks the committee had made its trip and returned with the government's consent to the undertaking. Hannibal went to work. It was no simple task that now faced the young man, albeit the greatest obstacle was just removed. Sanguine as most inventors are, supplied with funds sufficient for his purpose, unlimited as to time, he yet realized a certain gravity to the situation. He rented a wing of an old warehouse, hired capable mechanics as assistants and plunged into his labor, feverishly. What is known as the "orchestrion" is a gigantic musical machine popular in summer gardens, restaurants and various similar places of public resort. Perforated sheets of metal are slipped into the machine, one after another, and different tunes are played according to the perforations in the metal. The basis of Hannibal Perkin's idea was the orchestrion, with the addition of certain adjuncts of the fog-horn, to secure a volume of sound equaling that which nightly woke the echoes and everything else. Of course he could not himself manufacture perforated plates of the size he required, but a special order to a great firm in the business solved this part of the problem and a huge set of circular plates, twenty-five feet in diameter, was soon delivered at his shop. The machine itself was all the work of Hannibal and his two assistants. The day came when the thing was done and the monster orchestrion, or whatever it might be called, was loaded on a barge and towed to the light-house where the siren was about to be deposed. To make the proper attachments for the orchestrion--which did not get its power from winding up in the ordinary way, but by a steam arrangement--was a work of time, for just here was the most difficult part of the undertaking, and where the inventive genius of Hannibal Perkins shone out most brilliantly. It was a new departure but it was all right in principle, as Hannibal had maintained, and the day came when he announced that, when the fog fell that night, a new Siren, one with a voice such as was never heard before on sea or shore, would call across the waters to belated vessel men.