But behold! As soon as I went out on the adventure-path I met John Barleycorn again.

I moved through a world of strangers, and the act of drinking together made one acquainted with men and opened the way to adventures.

It might be in a saloon with jingled townsmen, or with a genial railroad man well lighted up and armed with pocket flasks, or with a bunch of alki stiffs in a hang-out.

Yes; and it might be in a prohibition state, such as Iowa was in 1894, when I wandered up the main street of Des Moines and was variously invited by strangers into various blind pigs--I remember drinking in barber-shops, plumbing establishments, and furniture stores.
Always it was John Barleycorn.

Even a tramp, in those halcyon days, could get most frequently drunk.