As Tom got out of the car, Marty came running down the stairs and into his arms trying not to cry. He tried to comfort her as she poured out all she knew about the last twenty-four hours.
She had kept Sam after school yesterday to finish his chore of stacking the firewood, which he had neglected to do. The other children had gone on ahead to the fort near the swimming hole to play. As soon as he was done, about twenty minutes later, she had let him go.
It wasn’t until the Davenport children had gone home, and Tyler came in for dinner that they discovered he was missing.
“I called and called for him. I whistled for Henry, but they didn’t come. We checked the fort and swimming hole, along the creek, and the old Rockland farm, passed the three oaks, and into the forest. I even tried to go into the pasture with that huge bull, but it wouldn’t let me. A couple of the Hennacys got on their ATV’s and ran the herd into another pasture that had been checked and a lot of us walked the whole field before dark, looking for him. But we found nothing. Oh Tom, it was so cold last night!” Marty cried, as she grieved for her son and remembered the loss of her young brother, so long ago. How could she endure it again? She let her tears fall, she couldn’t help it. Tom held her, praying.
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