It's an odd little... slightly irrelevant revelation? Doc seems a little puzzled, eyebrows furrowed as he tips his head to one side a bit.

"Name a man in this house who has not done anything regrettable and I would prove you wrong. If you stole from me a hundred and fifty years ago I would have shot and killed you faster than you could say your own name," Doc concedes. He wouldn't have hesitated back then, too. If he did he would be the one dead in the streets.

"But you showed up three days ago needing help. You did not steal from us. You have stolen, in the past. You have also drawn, you cooked, you read. That could make you a thief, an artiste, a chef, or a frontier history aficionado. I do not have the privilege of defining the man I am. History has made me a gunslinger, a gambler, a dentist, a vagabond. My legacy has been set in stone. I would not rob you of such a privilege, to decide the kind of man you are today."