"Umm, thanks," Dylan replied, thinking fast and trying to recover some of his esteem. "I thought you said 'Chupacabra' meant 'goat sucker.' The goats are in the pen, just like always."

"El Chupacabra sucks the blood of animals, señor," Paco answered as the last of the sheep were herded into the large central corral. "Goats, sheep, pigs, even the small burro is not safe from El Chupacabra."

"You're really serious about this thing, aren't you?" Dylan asked, still half sure, half hoping he was being the butt of some elaborate joke.

Paco climbed up and took a seat on the fence. "We are all serious about this, señor. If El Chupacabra kills your flocks, you will have to either start farming something other than sheep and goats, or sell the farm to some other gringo. Who knows about that person? Gringos are a strange people. We are used to you and I am too old and too fond of being a sheep rancher to learn something new. We want you to stop El Chupacabra so we can get back to our work."

"Good! I want you to get back to work, too." Dylan spat sarcastically. Then, seeing the pain and worry on Paco's face, he changed his tone a little. "What can you tell me about this? I have never heard of a goat sucker."

Paco thought for a minute or two, then said, "El Chupacabra is a new terror for us. The first stories came out of Puerto Rico just a few years ago."