“That’s some flood,” said Ralph as they sped toward the office. “I didn’t think there was so much water in the whole world.”
Tim was preoccupied and his words were slow in coming.
“I’m wondering how things are at Auburn,” said he. “With communication cut off, they might be in bad shape. Wish we could have gone lower but I didn’t dare, and we had to get your plates back as soon as possible.”
When they entered the editorial office, the managing editor was waiting for them.
“Get ’em?” he demanded.
“You bet,” said Ralph, “some dandies,” and he laid his camera with its graphic record of the flood, on the managing editor’s desk.
Carson hurriedly made out a rush order for the engraving room and sent a copy boy scurrying away with the camera. In less than an hour they would appear on the front page of the noonday extra, a real scoop over every other paper in town.
When Tim and Ralph went out for lunch, the sky was overcast again with hurrying rain clouds and the city was shrouded in a pall of low-lying clouds and heavy smoke. They were gone not more than half an hour but when they returned Carson beckoned at them, one ear glued to a telephone receiver. He was writing rapidly, occasionally asking a tense question. When he had finished he turned to Tim.
“This is bad, Tim,” said the managing editor. “That little town of Auburn that you flew over this morning had been isolated for four days now. They’re getting low on food and typhoid has broken out in the village. There isn’t a boat left in the village and even if trucks could get near there with boats, the river is so churned up they wouldn’t be able to get out to the village. I’ve just talked to the owner of the general store at Auburn. He’d taken to a barn door and trusted to luck that the current would take him ashore. He got through safely and called us from Applington. They’re appealing to us to do something.”
“Get me the food and serum they need and I’ll drop it to them in less than two hours,” replied Tim rising to the challenge in the managing editor’s eyes.