"Er—I've been wondering about—about those werewolves you were telling me of, Sir Henry," I improvised. "Just what are their habits?"
"They are a dangerous sort of demon," replied the Earthman readily. "By day they appear to be ordinary men, save that they may be distinguished by the first finger of the right hand being longer than the second; but in the dead of night the craving for human flesh comes upon them, they grow hairy, their nails become claws and their jaws lengthen, and they are wolves. They may not be slain by any weapon while in the beast form, but must be taken in human shape."
I quivered in spite of myself. The lie detector indicator had not moved from center—what he was saying must be the dreadful truth!
"Are—are they the worst sort of fiend common around here?" I ventured to ask.
De Long constricted the skin above his eyes judiciously. "The vampire is likewise a direful demon, though little known in these parts," he declared. "It is the soul of an unsanctified corpse, which rises in the night from its grave and goes forth to suck blood and life from living men."
I sprang to my feet, unable to remain still any longer. De Long stared. "Is aught amiss?" he exclaimed anxiously.
"No—nothing," I muttered, and the lie detector needle leaped clear against its stop pins. "That is—I rather think we'll be leaving Earth before very long." With lame excuses, we managed to get the Earthman outside.
Captain Tutwa thoroughly agreed with me that we must leave this noxious planet at once, never to return, and that Earth must be declared unfit for Martian colonization. I can solemnly say that the Blue Planet is a veritable inferno; we of Mars will do well to keep clear of it in future interplanetary explorations.
I am sure that you can well see that Earth can never be colonized from Mars, that it must be forever shunned as a plague spot. If any of our hot-headed youth is now so foolhardy as to brave the horrors of that planet of fear, their blood is on their own heads.