"Well," said the coachman, laughing, "I shouldn't know what to do with that if I had it, so you may keep it. Come, we will get on now, and you can play for me anyway."
Rico scarcely dared believe that the man meant what he said, but it was true, and he was hoisted up to the seat. The passengers were inside the coach, with the windows down, as the morning was cool. The driver took up the reins and they started down the hill that Rico had wanted to pass over for so long a time. In what a remarkable way was his desire fulfilled! He felt as if he were sailing between heaven and earth, and wondered how it had all come about.
"Tell me, little traveler," began the coachman, "where is your father?"
"He is dead," answered Rico.
"Is that so! Where is your mother?"
"She is dead, too," came the answer.
"That is too bad! How about grandfather and grandmother?"
"They are dead."
"Well, well!" exclaimed the man. "But you must have brother or sister?"