Yeah, we had a guy around Ponca several years ago that was the king of the roadhunters. He was the same way, if some landowner caught him, he had no problem telling them that their wheat fields would go up in smoke, and so on. Pretty much a low-life.
Unfortunatly I had to work with him, and got all of the stories.
I guess its poetic justice, as one day he saw a covey of quail in a guys barnyard, jumped out of the truck with his 20 ga shotgun, and caught the trigger on something. 3" load caught him right in the ankle, and the Doctors had to amputate his foot.
Last I've heard about him, is that he gave up road hunting, and started hunting the bottle.
I would have to agree with others about poetic justice.