They shook hands, and instead of identifying himself, Eduardo said,

'Dr. Yeats took care of our horses out at the ranch.'

'What ranch would that be?'

'Quartermass Ranch.'

'Ah,' Travis Potter said, 'then you must be the . . . Mr. Fernandez,

is it?'

'Oh, sorry, yeah, Ed Fernandez,' he replied, and had the uneasy feeling

that the vet had been about to say 'the one they talk about' or

something of the sort, as if he was a local eccentric.

He supposed that might, in fact, be the case. Inheriting his spread

from his rich employer, living alone, a recluse with seldom a word for

anyone even when he ventured into town on errands, he might have become

a minor enigma about whom townspeople were curious. The thought of it

made him cringe.

'How many years since you've had horses?' Potter asked.

'Eight. Since Mr. Quartermass died.'

He realized how odd it was--not having spoken with Yeats in eight

years, then showing up six years after he died, as if only a week had

gone by.

They stood in silence a moment. The June night around them was filled

with cricket songs.

'Well,' Potter said, 'where are these animals?'

'Animals?'

'You said you had some animals for Dr. Yeats to look at.'

'Oh. Yeah.'

'He was a good vet, but I assure you I'm his equal.'

'I'm sure you are, Dr. Potter. But these are dead animals.'

'Dead animals?'

'Raccoons.'

'Dead raccoons?'

'Three of them.'

'Three dead raccoons?'

Eduardo realized that if he did have a reputation as a local eccentric,

he was only adding to it now. He was so out of practice at

conversation that he couldn't get to the point.

He took a deep breath and said what was necessary without going into

the story of the doorway and other oddities: 'They were acting funny,

out in broad daylight, running in circles. Then one by one they

dropped over.' He succinctly described their death throes, the blood

in their nostrils and ears.

'What I wondered was'ould they be rabid?'

'You're up against those foothills,' Potter said. 'There's always a

little rabies working its way through the wild populations. That's

natural. But we haven't seen evidence of it around here for a while.

Blood in the ears? Not a rabies symptom. Were they foaming at the

mouth?'

'Not that I saw.'

'Running in a straight line?'

'Circles.'

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