“Going for the lines,” said the young driver.
“Is it a dog? A big dog? And he didn’t bark or anything!”
“Never does bark,” said her companion. “They say they can’t bark.”
“Then it’s a wolf! Wolves don’t bark,” Ruth suggested.
“I guess that’s right. They say they are dumb. Gosh! I don’t know,” Charlie said. “You didn’t really see anything, did you?” and he said it so very oddly that Ruth Fielding was perfectly amazed.
“What do you mean by that?” she demanded. “I saw just as much as you did.”
“Well, I’m not sure that I saw anything,” he told her slowly. “The French say it’s the werwolf—and that means just nothing at all.”
“Goodness!” exclaimed Ruth, repeating the word. “What old-world superstition is that? The ghost of a wolf?”
“They have a story that certain people, selling themselves to the Devil, can change at will into the form of a wolf,” went on Charlie.
“Oh, I know! They have that legend in every language there is, I guess,” Ruth returned.