"That ain't no stranger. That's a varmint. Murder's got to do with killin' humerns, way I understand it. You goin' to tell me that thing's humern?"
Ten people shouted at once:
"—human as I am!"
"—intelligent being!"
"—tell me you can simply kill—"
"—must be some kind of law—"
The sheriff raised his hands, his jowls drawn down in a scowl. "What about it, Judge Gates? Any law against Cecil Stump killing the ... uh...?"
The judge thrust out his lower lip. "Well, let's see," he began. "Technically—"
"Good Lord!" someone blurted. "You mean the laws on murder don't define what constitutes—I mean, what—"
"What a humern is?" Stump snorted. "Whatever it says, it sure-bob don't include no purple worms. That's a varmint, pure and simple. Ain't no different killin' it than any other critter."