Matt & Blake
His brother might be the sharp-dressed and smooth-tongued of them, but Dr. Blake was the one who had become a pillar of the community by being the town's doctor, and anyways, widows and orphans constituted a large number of his patients for one reason or another.
And if things continued this way, he'd have some patients from tonight as well, he noted with a hint of amusement as another bowl of punch was brought out, a few suspicious bubbles lurking at the surface of the sweetened red liquid. Still, a little lubrication might lead others to offer more to the cause, which might just indirectly lead to him being paid in money, and not in goats. (He appreciated the sentiment and attempt to pay, but what the hell was he supposed to do with two goats?)
As he wandered along the perimeter of the room, he recognized someone who might just sympathize with the goat problem; he and Mr. Murdock shared a similar sphere and even physical location within the town: professions with specialized knowledge outside the ken of cowboys and townsfolk, and certainly needed, perhaps not every day, but when they were needed, they were desperately needed. They even passed clients back and forth, sometimes, depending on what had happened.
"Mr. Murdock," he said as he approached, and waited to see if he needed to identify himself further, or if the voice was recognizable enough. "It's good to see you outside the professional sphere."