The Goats by Brock Cole Page A

understand,” said Maddy, beginning to feel frightened. “It’s hours since I spoke to her. Where can she be? I mean, what can have happened?”
    â€œNow, now, now,” said Mr. Wells sharply. “I don’t think we should be too worried yet. We know they were safe when you talked to her. That’s the important thing. We don’t know where she was calling from, or even where they came ashore. It might take them some time to get back to camp. I really expect them any time now, Mrs. Golden.”
    â€œBut she’s only thirteen. Isn’t anyone looking for her? Something terrible …”
    â€œMrs. Golden, I notified the sheriff and the ranger just as soon as we knew they were missing this morning. Some of our senior counselors are out searching for them right now.” He managed to look understanding and affronted at the same time.
    â€œBut why haven’t they found her? I really don’t understand this.”
    Mr. Wells looked vaguely surprised, as if she had disappointed him in some way.
    â€œWell,” he said patiently, “we have to consider the
possibility that they might not mind making us worry a bit.” He exchanged a fruity, knowing smile with Miss Haskell.
    Maddy began to feel annoyed. “Listen. Laura isn’t like that. When she says she’ll be back at a certain time, she is. I left her in your care. I want my daughter back. I want her now.”
    â€œMrs. Golden, no one is more aware of their responsibilities than I am. We are doing all that can be done to find them. I assure you that I am as concerned for their welfare as you are. Now”—he leaned forward, hunching his shoulders to show that he was getting down to business—“did Laura actually tell you that she was coming directly back to camp?”
    â€œNo, not in so many words …”
    â€œI think you told her that you would meet her on Saturday at the Parents’ Weekend.”
    Maddy looked at Miss Haskell. The woman nodded slightly, as if to encourage a dull student.
    Maddy looked back at Wells. “Are you suggesting that she might not come back until Saturday? That’s simply ludicrous.”
    â€œMrs. Golden, I think I can say that I know these kids pretty well. They don’t always understand how their behavior can upset others. Particularly their parents. Now, I’m sure that Laura is as good a girl as you think she is. Believe me, Mrs. Golden, it isn’t yet time to be deeply worried.”
    â€œLaura is …” Maddy began, and then stopped. She didn’t know what she had been going to say. In
some way the man had put her on the defensive. As if it were Laura’s behavior which had to be justified. She took a deep breath and began again. “What exactly happened, Mr. Wells? I think you owe me some kind of explanation.”
    For the first time the fat man looked uncomfortable. “Not something that any of us approve of, Mrs. Golden. It was, frankly, a practical joke that didn’t work out the way it should have. Completely unsanctioned by the camp and its staff.”
    â€œJoke? I know, you said that on the telephone. But what was the joke?”
    â€œWell, it’s an old tradition at the camp. It started a long time back. Back when, well, frankly, there wasn’t the same attention to camper supervision that we find advisable now.” He looked at Maddy to make sure that she understood that this was an important point.
    She waited. The man stirred uncomfortably. Miss Haskell cleared her throat, and Wells darted the woman a glance of such ill-concealed irritation that Maddy was taken aback. She knew very little, she realized, about these people with whom she had left Laura.
    â€œYou must know, Mrs. Golden,” he began again, “that at a large camp like this, with children from all sorts of homes, broken homes … all kinds. I’m sure you know that there are always a few campers who