"Well?" Cassie prompted.

"Well what?" Grady asked.

"Did you hear anything?" Will demanded.

"Hear anything about what?" Grady asked.

"You know what I mean!" Will snapped. "Did you hear any noises last night?"

"Uh… no," Grady lied. "I didn't hear anything."

Cassie looked shocked. "You're lying! You had to have heard something if you stayed up last night. We did."

"I didn't stay up late," Grady lied. "I went to bed early. Sorry, but I was really tired."

Will groaned. "Grady! You promised."

"I wouldn't have heard anything even if I did stay up," Grady insisted. "And if there was a noise, it was probably just dogs or regular wolves."

"What dogs only howl on the full moon?" demanded Cassie. "That's the only time we hear howls."

"Yeah, you hear them," said Grady. "Maybe you two are crazy."

"We aren't the only ones," said Will seriously. "Ask anyone else who lives here. They'll say they hear howls on the full moon as well."

Grady stared at him. Was he serious?

He didn't want to tell them about the howl he had heard. He didn't know why. Maybe he just didn't want to admit that he was wrong.

"You might not have heard anything last night, but we saw something today," said Cassie. "The swamp hermit. He was walking around the swamp, limping. He had hurt his leg. It was all bloody and covered in bandages."

"What?" Grady gasped.

"It looked pretty bad," said Will.

"That's horrible," said Grady. "Is he alright?"

"I think so," said Cassie. "Maybe he got hurt last night. Maybe another animal attacked him."

"Yeah. Maybe they got in an animal fight," suggested Will, snickering.

"He gave me a bandage when I hurt my leg," recalled Grady.

"Go up to him and ask how he hurt his leg," suggested Cassie. "If he's so nice and friendly."

"Maybe I will," retorted Grady. "I bet he just tripped over or something."

"You haven't seen his leg. It wouldn't look like that if he tripped over," said Will.

"Where is he now?" asked Grady.

"You're really going to talk to him?" demanded Will.

"Maybe I will," said Grady. "He helped me when I hurt my leg yesterday."

"He's probably back in his shack," said Cassie. "There's probably blood all over it now." Will laughed.

"It's not funny," said Grady. "Well, I remember where his shack was." He started heading toward Fever Swamp.

"Hey, Will," called Cassie. "Forget about him. Why don't you do something with us?"

"Maybe later," said Grady.

As he entered Fever Swamp, he struggled to find the trail that led to the shack. He eventually came across a tree that looked similar to one he had seen yesterday, and then spotted the trail next to it. He followed it deep into the swamp, the heat growing and the trees lengthening, until he saw the clearing.

John was there, sitting in front of his shack. Grady gasped. Will and Cassie hadn't exaggerated about his leg. There was a thick trail of dried blood running down, along with bits of dirt in it. John dipped a rag in a small black pot and pulled it out wet and steaming. He applied it to his wound, not wincing at all.

Grady knew he should've turned around and left, but he didn't. He watched John tighten the wet rag around his leg until it covered the wound, not showing any signs of discomfort.

Then John looked up, and his eyes met Grady. Grady's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't hid completely behind the trees, too distracted by John's leg.

"Grady." He jumped upon hearing his name being called. "What are you doing here? You should leave."

"S-sorry," Grady stammered. He was about to go, but then he remembered how John had helped him with his injured leg yesterday. He cautiously called, "Hey – what happened to your leg?"

John glanced up at him, and Grady's heart beat fast. "Sorry," he said. "You don't have to tell me."

"Why did you come?" John asked.

"I… I heard you hurt your leg," said Grady. "Are you okay? It looked pretty bad."

"I'm fine," said John, staring at Grady curiously now. He looked touched by the gesture, his green eyes shining with surprise and awe. "You should go, Grady. You don't want to see it."

"But how did it happen?" asked Grady.

John didn't answer. Then he said, "Actually, I just remembered something. I have something for you, Grady."

"You do?" asked Grady.

"Yes. I made something for you," said John.

"What thing?" asked Grady.

"It's in my shack," said John. "I'll get it for you."

As John disappeared into his shack, Grady stepped out from behind the trees. The shack was rundown, but the clearing was rather nice. Wildflowers grew unevenly around it, and the sun shone done on it, making the dried grass glisten.

John came out holding something made out of dark red wood. It was some kind of statue. It looked like the ones Grady's grandfather from India, the one who had given him his watch, had. As John came closer, Grady could see that it was a wolf.

No. Not a wolf. A dog. Two floppy ears rested on both sides of its head, and a tail poked out of its back. Its eyes were painted black, and seemed to shine as they stared at Grady.

"Do you like it?" John asked. "It's a dog."

"Uh…" Grady stared at it. "Why did you make it?"

"I like making things," said John. "Sculpting things. I'm pretty good at it. I've been working on that one for a while. I just finished it today, and decided to give it to you."

"But… why?" Grady asked.

"I don't know," said John. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, after you were so kind to me. I have plenty of others. Can't I share one with someone else?"

"I guess you can," said Grady, taking it from him. "Well, thanks."

As Grady took the statue from John's hand, his silver watch touched John's skin, and he pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. Grady looked at him before returning his gaze to the statue.

It was very well made. It looked just like a mini dog. Its nose was painted a shiny black, and its four legs were short and stubby. It even had part of a tongue that stuck out of its wooden mouth.

"I like it," said Grady honestly. "I like dogs. I always asked my parents to get me one, but they didn't let me."

"That's a shame," said John. "I like dogs as wells. Wolves, not as much."

Had he said that last part, or had Grady imagined it?

"Well, thanks for the statue," said Grady. "But are you sure your leg's okay?"

"I'm fine," said John. "Thank you for visiting. It was very considerate of you."

Grady left with the statue. As he shifted it, it looked more like a wolf than a dog, its black eyes losing their shine and staring at him menacingly.

"He gave you a present?" Emily scoffed.

"It's a dog," Grady said. "He said he likes sculpting things."

"A dog?" Emily snatched it from him. "It looks like a wolf to me."

"No. It's a dog," Grady insisted, snatching it back.

"How was his leg?" Will asked.

"Bad," Grady said. "He was really hurt."

"Grady, Dad told you to stay away from that creepy old guy," Emily reminded. "Remember? He warned us about him."

"All he said was that everyone thought he was strange, but he was harmless," retorted Grady.

"Like you," Emily cracked. "Wait, you aren't harmless. You infect everyone with your geekiness."

"You really should stay away from him," insisted Will.

"Did he tell you how he hurt himself?" Cassie added.

"No," said Grady. "He was really nice. He gave me a present."

"A wolf present," noted Will.

"It's not a wolf," insisted Grady.

"Dad visited the swamp today," said Emily. "Didn't you see him, Grady?"

"No," admitted Grady. "He visited earlier, didn't he?"

"He even saw the hermit's shack," said Emily. "Of course, he was sensible enough to avoid it, unlike you."

"Well, forget about the hermit," said Cassie. "Why don't you do something with us?"

"Yeah. Sure," Grady agreed. They walked to a wide, open field and started throwing a basketball around. As Grady played, he noticed Will and Cassie staring at him, observing him, with an almost greedy look in their eyes.