"Yes. For the French. I am doing all in my power to see that the shells reach their purchasers as quickly as possible. Wait a minute----" He waved a deprecating hand as Boy-Ed pushed his chair back and sprang to his feet angrily. "I have done exactly as I planned to do. I have changed the plans of the shells. Employees of the A.T.R. Munitions works are now laboring night and day to produce shells that will be sold to the French Government--but the shells will fit only German guns!" He glanced around triumphantly. "Is my report approved?" Smiles of satisfaction swept about the group. Von Bernstorff extended his hand. "It is good work, Slakberg, and will mean great things." Slakberg smiled smugly. "Greater perhaps than your Excellency imagines," he answered. "In the first place, it will deprive the French of some million shells of various sizes upon which they are depending. In the second place it breaks the entire embargo which the British have placed about Germany." "But how did you accomplish it?" "As soon as the plans were signed, they were turned over to me for safe-keeping," he smiled. "I have put them where they will be safe--forever, I tore them up. Then I placed in the safe in their stead the plans which were sent me from Berlin, drawn to the scale of German guns of nearly the same calibre. I forged the necessary signatures and acknowledgments. It was very simple. It is impossible that they suspect anything wrong. So now," he concluded, "those shells will be rushed to the French front at the earliest possible dates. They will be hoarded for the big French drive. So I learned in conference. The French drive will turn into a German drive. The French will try to use the shells. They will not fit. They will have to fall back. Our men will rush forward. In the hasty retreat the French will be compelled to leave the ammunition behind. The rest will be simple. Imperial Germany will bring up her guns to find ammunition of all calibres waiting for them. Ammunition made in America, paid for by France, shipped in spite of British interference and embargoes--for Germany!" Slakberg regarded his audience, complacently, pleased at the evidences of pleasure they displayed. During his recital Von Papen had reached for a check book. And now with its hastily inked signature scarcely dry he handed a check to Slakberg. "In token of our Fatherland's esteem," he smiled. The conference, supremely satisfactory to those who had shared its secrets, ended. It had a double sequel however. Von Lertz, Germany's unofficial man of all work was still captive to the charms of Dixie Mason and still ignorant that she was of the Secret Service and assigned to the work of gaining all information possible by means of her feminine wiles. Von Lertz, with characteristic egotism, failed to realize that he was but a tool in her hands. The afternoon following the conference in Von Papen's office, he called upon her.