If there's any question left in those boy's minds, Samuel nods his head from their guns to the earth. "And I suggest you listen to the man."

The guns are back in the dirt before the words have died from the balmy air.

"Don't shoot us, sir!"

"Andrew Crocker, what makes you think I'm gonna shoot you?" asks Samuel Barlow, tone bemused.

(His rifle is still trained on the boys.)

"We was just huntin' game, Sir! N-not so much, just a bit. Sir!"

"I don't see no signs sayin' this here is free huntin' ground!" John snipes. "In fact, I'd say that fence over yonder does a pretty damn good job of conveyin' just the opposite, shitheads."

"You boys do the number on my fence?" Samuel asks, voice still sweet and calm.