9
I finished my sandwich and drank a tall glass of lemonade. Damn, it was good. I got up off the porch, fixed my cap on my head and wiped my hands on the seat of my jeans.
Collins' two sons got up and stretched. They were strapping lads, fed on a diet of beef, milk and farming chores.
Collins appeared around the corner of the house, carrying a rifle with a telescopic sight and a brown leather shoulder strap. "Okay boys, back to it," he said.
"That's a nice rifle," I said. "What is it?"
"It's a Ruger," he said. "You know how to shoot?"
"I know a little."
Collins looked at me. "Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"The target range," he said.
Me and Collins' two sons followed him out to a large boulder by the side of the barn. The sons walked to another boulder about three hund
