"They're lettin' anyone lay stead in Maddock these days," Jeremiah mutters over a tin cup of thin coffee and bad whiskey. "Bad enough the Mendezers have up by th'church, but I'm hearin' there's a Chinaman in the boardin' house."
"Chinaman?" Zeke mutters, also over his drink. "He's a cook, ain't he? Like that Ping Chow fella used t'be at Miss Caroline's?"
"Nope. Says he's a doctor."
"A doctor? There ain't no Chinaman doctors! Yer hearin' ain't too good, 'cause 'cook' an' 'doctor' don't sound nuthin' like each other."
"You callin' me a liar, Zeke? I swear on God's dirty denimns there's a Chinaman in town, an' he's callin' himself a doctor! All I know is, I ain't goin' to him. Quacks th' lot, I say."
"Yeah, sure hope Doc Webster comes back soon...or any real doctor, fer that matter..."
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