You're fucking right, they are. We had to get word to 'em somehow, and I had to keep the patrols off Chrissy. What the fuck do you think we were doing, huh? Making trouble just for fun? Our methods aren't yours, but they fucking work.

[Probably. Obviously there's a lot of spontaneity to it. Anyway, it sounds to him like Cruz is pleading to get let off, and while the apology doesn't exactly ring sincere or complete to his ears, there's no joy in beating a guy who doesn't even want to be there. He takes a breath, smells the oncoming rain on the breeze, then shakes his head and folds the blade of his knife back into the grip with a snap, then walks right up to Cruz and stares him in the eye. Which... means he has to look up, but, whatever.]

You play at cop one more time an' that's it, you hear me? If you got a problem with us, fine, but we deal with it like decent people, not fucking pigs.

[He shakes his head as he turns and pushes his way past the ring of cowboys, back toward the barn. They have a wagon to fix.]