I stared at him. I suppose I looked stupid. I felt it. It was as though some spectre, strange, ghastly, altogether of another world, had risen up suddenly there before us in these quiet Pennsylvania woods. "A mania--subject imagines himself some beast, resulting in actual physical transformations--exhibits depraved appetites--frequently homicidal..." I recalled haltingly the words of an old treatise. "They did more than believe they were animals," said Herrick dryly. "They seem to have succeeded in impressing their belief pretty strongly upon their neighbours and relatives. Did you ever dig into old records of that sort, Austin? The were-wolf stories of the Middle Ages? They're rather grim reading." I was silent. "Remember our facts," he went on. "Menning's mother came from Westphalia, one of the parts of Europe where the belief in lycanthropy is most widely spread and where its existence is still credited among the peasants of today. Lycanthropy was believed to be a hereditary taint, as transmissible as insanity, which may lie dormant through one or more generations, so much so that at one time the relatives of an accused man or woman were all held suspect. There seems to have been more or less of a mystery about the Mennings altogether, chiefly on account of the mother's character, and most particularly in regard to Jakey. Remember also what Lennox said about the strong persistence of type in both sons, although of different paternity. We have Lennox's assertion that there was something peculiar, 'animal', about Jakey, which certainly impressed him, but which he seemed rather at a loss to describe. Then there is that unexplained incident when Jakey was with the circus. Whatever it was, it was something that gave such a shock to the proprietor--who, remember, had originally conceived the idea of the wild-man stunt himself, so wasn't likely to have been taken in by acting--that he sacrificed his best drawing card then and there sooner than have Jakey remain another night with the show. All the brother would say was that he 'guessed Jakey acted too well,' which in itself is fairly significant. "That Aaron knew, or suspected, certain facts about his brother, there is no doubt. Why else should he so obstinately oppose any medical examination, and particularly the idea of Jakey being removed even temporarily from their control? Why did he make the very singular statement that Jakey was 'all right in the daytime,' and that _at night they shut him up_?" "And the bullet?" I asked. "Do you remember that Aaron promised if it became necessary he would take steps? What those steps were he did not say, but I believe myself that this silver bullet answers the question. Remember the horror in which lycanthropy was held, the revulsion it excited, and think whether he would not have resorted to the gravest measures sooner than have the whole concealed story come to light.