Roy repeated his circle around the house and found absolutely no indication that anyone was inside when the fire started. With the recent summer heat, the crop was beginning to dry, but at six feet high the garden was almost ready for the harvest. The fire had quickly spread across the field burning the stalks to a foot above the ground. Remarkably, the moist ground and green roots prevented the fire from consuming everything.
Returning to the wagon, Roy tied Sugar-Girl to the rear again and slowly started driving the wagon around the farm. Each time he completed a loop around the farm, he would increase the distance from the farm while scanning in all directions. Tears began to fall down Roy's cheeks as he continued his fruitless search and calling out their names. The stupid family curse, Roy. He berated himself.
Weeping uncontrollably, Roy finally and reluctantly turned to head back to his homestead. His shoulders drooped and his head hung low as the Johansson mare plodded along to Roy's place. Years of grief released in waves as Roy hopelessly rode back to his home. So close to happiness and again the Folsom curse ruins everything, Roy thought. The heartache was almost unbearable. Why God, why us? What did we do to you? The ride back to Roy's farm took an eternity.
Numb, Roy catatonically moved through his chores as he deposited the horses and mules in the barn. After stowing the harness and saddle, Roy began to tear up again while feeding the animals. His sorrow was beyond measure. Stumbling as he stepped onto the front porch, Roy dragged his feet as he entered the cabin. It was empty and quiet.
Exhausted and emotionally drained, Roy dropped his full weight into the chair and he began to slowly rock. Closing his eyes the tears continued to fall, but Roy could not hinder them.
Suddenly, he heard distant voices.
Alert, Roy quietly stood up and wiped his face on a sleeve. He promptly snatched the rifle from above the fireplace. Roy held his breath and turned his head, listening for the direction of the voices. He faintly heard the voices again. The voices seemed to be coming from behind the fireplace. Roy crept slowly toward the tunnel entrance.