Archer thanks his dumb luck. The wind wasn't blowing his scent at the guard dogs, and the stink of the animal pens stood between him and them, further screening his odor.
Heart racing, the vigilante continues creeping to the big wooden sign of the front gate, using it as cover. Once there, he quietly pours one can of gasoline at its base.
Then, carrying the other can, he backs up the way he came.
If all was still quiet, he silently fires a flare into the gas soaked wooden sign from a safe distance, and immediately moves southeast, low and quick, away from the raging inferno.