ll leave them. I do not want them to see
me."

In low tones, they discussed the bombing of two places. Metenier, a
pillar of the church, highly respected in his community and well-known
throughout France, cautioned them as they left.

Why the vivacious blond stenographer was permitted to sit in on this
conversation, Locuty did not know, unless it was to tempt him, for, as
she bade him good-by, she squeezed his hand significantly and said she
wanted to see him again.

Metenier drove Locuty to an office building where he introduced him to
a man he called "Leon"--actually Alfred Macon, concierge of a building
which Metenier and others used as headquarters for their activities.
Within a few moments the door of an adjacent room opened and Jean
Adolphe Moreau de la Meuse, aristocrat and leading French
industrialist, came in. He had a monocle in his right eye which he
kept adjusting nervously. His face was deeply marked and lined with
heavy bluish pouches under the eyes. With a swift glance he sized up
Locuty as Metenier rose.

"This is the gentleman whom I mentioned," he said.

"He understands his mission?" De la Meuse asked.

"Yes," said Locuty. "You will teach me how to make them?"

De la Meuse nodded. "It will be a time bomb which must be set for ten
o'clock tomorrow night. There will be nobody in the building at that
time, so no one will be hurt."

An hour later Locuty, who had made both bombs and set the timing
devices, wrapped them into two neat packages. Metenier took him to the
General Confederation of French Employers' Building in the Rue de
Presbourg. In accordance with instructions he left one of the packages
with the concierge, after which Metenier took him to the Ironmasters'
Association headquarters on the Rue Boissiere, where Locuty left the
second package.

On the evening of September 11, the General Confederation of French
Employers was scheduled to hold a meeting in their building. This
meeting was postponed; and, as De la Meuse had assured the Michelin
engineer, the concierges and their wives, contrary to custom, were not
in their buildings that evening.

At ten o'clock, both bombs exploded. The plans had gone off as
arranged except for an accident, the investigation of which made
public the whole amazing conspiracy. Two French gendarmes standing
near one of the buildings were killed.

Immediately after the bombs exploded, the Employers' Confederation and
the Ironmasters' Association issued s