[@Sombrero] "Y'say yer a busy man, so I assume your'n charge of the law 'rounn'ere?"

A brief look of shock appeared on the face of Hugo Watts, the slightly rounded face quickly returning to a more neutral expression as he gave the figure before him - a man who seemed to be constructed from leather and scar tissue alone - an appraising once and then twice over with his own piercing eyes. Whomever this rude trail-trash was, he nevertheless had the stature and air of a soldier about him, and from his accent had likely fought for the Union; this was something that both drew Watts to him, and yet repulsed him at the same time.

"Son," he began with a heavy sigh, leaning back into his chair, "you had best answer ma' god damn question 'fore I blow your noggin' clean off...'case you forgit, I asked you who you are. Now oblige me with an answer, boy."

Hugo stood as he spoke, lifting himself to his full six-and-a-half feet of height, revealing his bear-like form for Moses to see as he casually leant over his desk to stare the Kansas man square in the eyes. If the Pinkerton man made note of anything, it should probably be the presence of an 1851 Colt Navy revolver sat low on the hip of the large enforcer, a favoured weapon of the Confederate military and one in the use of which Hugo Watts was deadly proficient.