Sam's truck slowly made its way down the little narrow road that led to the house with the butterfly chimes. When they arrived in front of the house, Joey noticed a light shining through the window.

"Pa, is this the house? I mean.... I thought no one lived here."

"Yes this is it," Sam said, looking at the house. "It looks like someone lives here after all. Who’d of thought? Well we best stop in and see if it's okay to cut through the field."

They walked up to the rusty wire gate. When Sam pushed it open, it made a loud creaking noise. Sam stepped upon the rickety wooden porch; as he walked across the porch, the wood squeaked. Sam knocked on the door. He waited a few minutes and knocked again.

"Hello! Anyone home?" he called. Joey stood holding the jar, looking around.

"Hmm, maybe they're in the field," Sam said.

"Pa, try the window; maybe ya can see something."

Sam peered through the window, and tapped on the glass.

"Well, I can't see anything. We best get a move on before nightfall. Now where's the opening in the fence?" Sam said, looking around.

"Over here Pa!" Joey yelled.

Sam went through the opening and Joey followed carrying the jar.

"Pa, what if the other butterflies ain't there anymore?"

"I think they'll be okay Joey."

"I think so too Pa."

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