Beth and I will follow some of these paths and see if we can find him." "He may have sprained an ankle, and be unable to walk," suggested Beth.
"I think Patsy's advice is good." So Louise returned through the town and the other girls began exploring the paths that led into the mountains from every turn of the highway.
But although they searched eagerly and followed each path a mile or more of its length, no sign of life did they encounter--much less a sight of their missing uncle.

The paths were wild and unfrequented, only on the Catania road itself a peasant now and then being found patiently trudging along or driving before him a donkey laden with panniers of oranges or lemons for the markets of Taormina.
On some of the solitary rocky paths they called to Uncle John by name, hoping that their voices might reach him; but only the echoes replied.
Finally they grew discouraged.
"It will be sunset before we get back, even if we start this minute," said Beth, finally.

"Let us return, and get some one to help us." Patsy burst into tears.
"Oh, I'm sure he's lost, or murdered, or kidnapped!" she wailed.

"Dear, dear Uncle John! Whatever shall we do, Beth ?" "Why, he may be at home, waiting for us to get back.

Don't give way, Patsy; it will do no good, you know." They were thoroughly tired when, just at sunset, they reached the hotel.
Louise came to meet them, and by the question in her eyes they knew their uncle had not returned.
"Something must be done, and at once," said Beth, decidedly.