From this day forward the cousin never spoke another word against Rico
in the grandmother's hearing; nor, indeed, did she often speak of him at
all. She believed, as did all the neighbors far and near, that the lad
was dead; and she was thankful that nobody knew about the words he had
said to her on that last evening.
The next morning after this event was made known, Stineli's father went
out to the thrashing-floor and picked himself out a stout stick. He said
that he would call some of the neighbors together: they must go search
for the lad somewhere towards the glaciers and up by the ravines.
Stineli crept out after him, and he said, when he noticed her, "That is
right, come and help me to search; you can get into the corners better
than I can."
At last, after they had found a big beanpole, Stineli ventured to say,
"But father, if Rico went along the high-road, then he could not fall
into any thing, could he?"
"Oh, perhaps he might," replied her father. "Such thoughtless boys as he
often stray off the road, and fall into ravines and places: they don't
know themselves where they are going, and he was always moving about
more or less."
That this was true of Rico nobody knew better than Stineli; and she
became dreadfully anxious from that time forth, which anxiety increased
every day to such a degree that she could neither eat nor sleep for
sorrow, and did her work, day after day, as if she did not know what she
was about.
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