“He didn’t live here,” Shin said impatiently. “He got his raisin’ in N’Awleens. Jes’ dropped in day o’ the weddin’ an’ then dropped out before I even took time to get a good look at him. But dat Pewter nigger ain’t got nothin’ to do wid dis. Us is done side-tracked an’ got off de subjeck.”
“Whut does you want me to do?” Vinegar asked.
“Keep yo’ eye out fer me, an’ find out who dat nigger is whut hangs aroun’ Whiffle.”
“Naw, suh,” Vinegar said promptly. “I don’t monkey wid no love scrapes. I’m a exput in givin’ religious advices, but I ain’t no mattermony-fixer. I declines.”
“Who muss I take my troubles to?” Shin asked desperately.
“Tell yo’ sorrers to de barkeep,” Vinegar chuckled. “You knows as well as I do dat Skeeter Butts is de exput mattermony-fixer of dis town.”
Shin placed his hat on his head and stood up.
“I aimed to ax Skeeter, too, Rev’un, but I decided to come to see you fust.”
“Dat wus right,” Vinegar applauded. “I loves to git fusters on eve’y scandal in town.”