Tim settled himself for the flight to Auburn and a minute later the Good News was winging its way into the east.
The safety of the village depended on the success of their efforts. Within the next hour and Tim and Ralph realized the seriousness of their mission.
They sped into the night at a chilling pace and both reporters welcomed the signal fires which marked the course of the river. It was just before midnight when they swung down out of the sky to reconnoiter the ice jam.
Ralph dropped a parachute flare which lighted the country-side for half a mile around.
There was no one in the vicinity of the jam and the village had been deserted.
Tim inspected the face of the jam closely, hunting for the key point where the pressure was greatest. Up and down the river they cruised while Ralph lighted three more flares.
Finally Tim was satisfied that he had picked out the vulnerable spots in the jam and he motioned for Ralph to get ready with the bombs.
By pre-arranged signal Ralph was to drop a bomb over board every time Tim raised his left arm. Several of the flares had dropped on the ice and there was plenty of light.
Tim’s arm jerked upward and a small, black object hurtled down from the plane.
The night was torn by a blinding flash followed by an ear-shattering roar. A geyser of ice and water mounted upward from the point where the bomb had struck.