“Oui,” he replied slowly. “Eet sound lik’ a wolf but much beeger sound. Eet is ter’ble. Sometime heem geet me,” and the man made the sign of the cross on his breast.
“When did you hear it last?” Rex asked.
“’Bout five-six month ago.”
“Where was it?”
“Right here, Eet sound lak’ eet down by lake.”
“And what did you do?”
“I leave here queek. Go back Presque Isle ver’ queek.”
“But, Parry, don’t you have some sort of a charm that will protect you?” Rex asked, determined to keep him on the subject as long as possible.
“Non,” he replied, shaking his head. “Dere is no charm can keep dat sort of wolf away. Heem ’fraid nottin’, non.”
“And you really think that he’ll get you sometime?”