“The sacks landed in the river,” explained Tim. “I had them aimed all right but a little squall swept over the valley after I released them and carried them too far.”
Carson was silent and his disappointment was evident. Then Tim went on.
“But Mr. Carson, if ever any group of people needs help, that little town of Auburn does. I went down so close I could see their faces; they’re desperate. Give me another chance and I’ll make good.”
“There isn’t time today,” said the managing editor.
“Yes there is, if we work fast.”
“Won’t the same thing happen again?”
“No!” There was ringing conviction in Tim’s words. “I’ll get the stuff there or bust in the attempt. Besides, I’ve got a new plan.”
Carson looked at his flying reporter for a moment. The light in Tim’s blue eyes and the determined lines around his mouth convinced the managing editor that he could back up his words with success.
“All right,” he agreed, “shoot.”
For a minute Tim and the managing editor, with Ralph listening in, talked earnestly.