Paco grabbed Dylan's wrist and pulled the bigger man close. "Señor, you are a stupid gringo, but that is not important right now. Understand this, if you can understand nothing else: This creature, El Chupacabra, the goat sucker, will feed on your flocks until they are gone. And when you try to get more sheep and goats, it will return and drain the life from those too."

Dylan stared at Paco, completely stunned by what he was hearing. He looked from Paco's earnestly concerned face, to the goat lying dead on the ground, and up to the circle of farm workers who were worriedly watching the proceedings.

"Fine," he said distrustfully, standing up and taking charge of the situation. "I tell you what: You all get back to work, and I will take care of this … this thing, whatever the heck it is."

The farm hands nodded and turned away, going back to their duties. Paco stood looking into Dylan's eyes. "You do not believe us, do you señor? he asked. "You think you can say some words and make this better?"

Dylan tried to sound comforting. "Look, Paco, we have a farm to run here. A goat died. Goats die. Not as often as sheep, but goats die."

"But what of the …" Paco tried to interrupt.