Mr. Eberhardt had run up the hill to try to help, with Roy huffing close behind. When they'd reached the tree, they realized there was nothing they could do. The dead man was soaked with blood and twisted at odd angles, like a broken G.I. Joe doll. Roy knew he would never forget what he saw, and he never wanted to see anything like it again.

Consequently, he had no intention of hanging around the emergency room for the arrival of a new emergency. He slipped through a side door and wandered through the hospital for about fifteen minutes until a nurse intercepted him.

"I think I'm lost," Roy said, doing his best to appear confused.

"You most definitely are."

The nurse steered him down a back corridor to the emergency room, where Roy was relieved to find no chaos or carnage. The place was as quiet as he'd left it.

Puzzled, Roy went to the window and checked outside. There was no ambulance in the delivery zone, only a Coconut Cove police cruiser. Maybe it was nothing, he thought, and returned to his magazine.

Soon afterward, Roy heard voices from behind the double doors that led to the area where Mullet Fingers was being treated. A loud discussion was taking place in the patient ward, and Roy strained to make out what was being said.

One voice in particular rose above the rest, and Roy was distressed to recognize it. He sat there in nervous misery, trying to decide what to do next. Then he heard another familiar voice, and he knew there was only one choice.

He walked to the double doors and pushed them open.

"Hey, Mom! Dad!" he shouted. "I'm right here!"

Officer Delinko had insisted on giving the Eberhardts a ride to the hospital. It was the decent thing to do-and also a prime opportunity to score points with Roy's father.

The patrolman hoped that Mr. Eberhardt's son wasn't involved in the continuing mischief at the pancake-house construction site. What a sticky situation that would be!

On the drive to the hospital, Roy's parents sat in the backseat and spoke quietly between themselves. His mother said she couldn't imagine how Roy had got bitten by a dog while he was working on a science project. "Maybe it had something to do with all that hamburger meat," she speculated.

"Hamburger?" said Roy's father. "What kind of school project uses hamburger?"

In the rearview mirror, Officer Delinko could see Mr. Eberhardt put an arm around his wife's shoulders. Her eyes were moist and she was biting her lower lip. Mr. Eberhardt appeared as tightly wound as a clock spring.

When they got to the emergency room, the desk clerk declared that Roy was sleeping and couldn't be disturbed. The Eberhardts tried to reason with him but the clerk wouldn't budge.

"We're his parents," Mr. Eberhardt said evenly, "and we intend to see him right away."

"Sir, don't make me call a supervisor."

"I don't care if you call the Wizard of Oz," said Mr. Eberhardt. "We're going in."

The clerk trailed them through the swinging double doors. "You can't do this!" he objected, scooting ahead of the Eberhardts and blocking the hallway to the patient ward.

Officer Delinko edged forward, assuming that the sight of a police uniform would soften the fellow's attitude. He was mistaken.

"Absolutely no visitors. It says right here on the doctor's notes." The clerk solemnly waved a clipboard. "I'm afraid you'll have to go back to the waiting room. That means you, too, Officer."

Officer Delinko shrank away. Not the Eberhardts.

"Listen, that's our son lying in there," Roy's mother reminded the clerk. "You called us, remember? You told us to come!"

"Yes, and you may see Roy as soon as the doctor says it's allowed."

"Then page the doctor. Now." Mr. Eberhardt's tone of voice remained level, but the volume had gotten much louder. "Pick up the phone and dial. If you've forgotten how, we'll be happy to show you."

"The doctor's on a break. She'll be back in twenty-five minutes," the clerk said tersely.

"Then she can find us right here," Mr. Eberhardt said, "visiting our injured son. Now, if you don't move out of the way, I'm going to drop-kick you all the way to Chokoloskee. Understand?"

The clerk went pale. "I'm r-r-reporting you to my s-s-su-supervisor."

"That's a dandy idea." Mr. Eberhardt brushed past and started down the hall, guiding his wife by the elbow.

"Hold it right there!" snapped a firm female voice behind them.

The Eberhardts stopped and turned. Emerging from a door marked STAFF ONLY was a woman wearing baby-blue scrubs and a stethoscope.

"I'm Dr. Gonzalez. Where do you think you're going?"

"To see our son," replied Mrs. Eberhardt.

"I tried to stop them," the desk clerk piped up.

"You're Roy's parents?" the doctor asked the Eberhardts.

"We are." Roy's father noticed Dr. Gonzalez eyeing them with an odd curiosity.

"Pardon me if this is out of line," she said, "but you sure don't look like you work on a crab boat."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Roy's mother said. "Is everybody at this hospital a total wacko?"

"There must be some mistake," Officer Delinko interjected. "Mr. Eberhardt is a federal law-enforcement agent."

Dr. Gonzalez sighed. "We'll sort this out later. Come on, let's go peek in on your boy."

The emergency-patient ward had six beds, five of which were unoccupied. The sixth bed had a white privacy curtain drawn around it.

"We've got him on I.V. antibiotics and he's doing pretty well," Dr. Gonzalez said in a low voice, "but unless we find those dogs, he'll need a series of rabies injections. Those are no fun."

The Eberhardts locked arms as they approached the enclosed bed. Officer Delinko stood behind them, wondering what color shirt Roy would be wearing. In the patrolman's pocket was the bright green scrap of clothing that had snagged on the Mother Paula's fence.

"Don't be surprised if he's sleeping," the doctor whispered, gently pulling the curtain away.

Nobody said a word for several moments. The four grownups just stood there, blank-faced, staring at the empty bed.

From a metal rig hung a plastic bag of ginger-colored fluid, the intravenous tube disconnected and dangling to the floor.

Finally, Mrs. Eberhardt gasped, "Where's Roy!"

Dr. Gonzalez's arms flapped helplessly. "I just… I really… I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mr. Eberhardt erupted. "One minute an injured boy is asleep in this bed, and the next minute he's vanished?"

Officer Delinko stepped between Mr. Eberhardt and the doctor. The patrolman was afraid that Roy's father was upset enough to do something he might later regret.

"Where is our son?" Mrs. Eberhardt demanded again.

The doctor buzzed for a nurse and frantically started searching the emergency ward.

"But he was the only patient here," Mr. Eberhardt said angrily. "How can you possibly lose the one and only patient you've got? What happened-did aliens beam him up to their spaceship while you were on your coffee break?"

"Roy? Roy, where are you!" cried Mrs. Eberhardt.

She and Dr. Gonzalez began checking beneath the other five beds in the ward. Officer Delinko whipped out his portable radio and said, "I'm calling for backup."

Just then, the double doors to the waiting room flew open.

"Mom! Dad! I'm right here!"

The Eberhardts practically smothered their son with a tandem hug.

"Little devil," chuckled Officer Delinko, holstering his radio. He was pleased to see that Roy wasn't wearing a torn green T-shirt.

"Whoa!" Dr. Gonzalez clapped her hands sharply. "Everybody hold on a minute."

The Eberhardts looked up quizzically. The doctor didn't seem especially overjoyed to have found her lost patient.

"That's Roy?" she asked, pointing at their son.