They were just completing their work with the parachute when a truck from the Red Cross office arrived with the supplies, packed in two strong canvas sacks.
“The serum’s in the center of one of the bags,” said the truck driver, “and they said you wouldn’t need to worry about breaking the glass tubes. They’ve packed everything carefully.”
Tim soon rigged the sacks on the side of the Lark with the parachute attached to them. A single hard jerk on the rope which held the sacks would send them tumbling earthward to the stricken village.
The flying reporter checked his plane with even greater care than usual. He couldn’t afford to take a risk, too much depended on the outcome of his flight. Finally, satisfied that all was well, he climbed into the rear cockpit and settled his long legs on the rudder bar. The motor was purring musically.
Ralph climbed up on the fuselage and bent close to Tim, “Good luck,” he shouted, and slapped his chum on the back.
That was characteristic of the generousness of Ralph’s nature and Tim warmed inwardly for he knew how keenly Ralph wanted to make the trip with him.
With a roar of the motor and a flirt of its tail, Tim sent the Lark rocketing into the eastern sky on its errand of mercy while the great presses in the News building uptown were even then grinding out the story of his daring attempt.
After a little less than an hour of flying, he sighted the swirling, dirty-yellow current of the Cedar and swung down the valley to pick up the marooned village, a cluster of houses in the midst of a great expanse of angry flood waters.
The roar of the Lark’s motor attracted the attention of the villagers and they gathered in the town square to watch the circling plane. Tim swept low and pointed to the sacks on the side of his plane. The expressions on the upturned faces of the people indicated that they understood what he was going to attempt.
Tim banked sharply and headed upstream. The clouds had broken somewhat but there were indications of an almost momentary squall. He would have to hurry to accomplish his mission. The winds were hard out of the east and it would take careful calculations of speed and wind drift to land his cargo on the tiny island.