"Well—" He lowered the shotgun. Two tears broke from his eyes and he shook them off with an angry whirl of his head. Jeff extended his hand.
"Maybe you'd better let me have the gun."
"It—it isn't loaded. I didn't have any money to buy shells!"
Jeff said gently, "Taking a bit of a chance, weren't you? What if you'd pulled it on someone with a gun that was loaded?"
"I—I don't know."
"This is really your dad's dog?"
"I ought to know him."
"He doesn't seem especially happy to see you."
"I—I only saw him twice. Last time a year ago. But it's my pop's!"
"Who are you, son?"