There was more in him than the bad taste when you swallowed him.

Here, at the absurd cost of ten cents, a gloomy, grouchy individual, who threatened to become an enemy, was made into a good friend.

He became even genial, his looks were kindly, and our voices mellowed together as we talked water-front and oyster-bed gossip.
"Small beer for me, Johnny," I said, when the others had ordered schooners.

Yes, and I said it like the accustomed drinker, carelessly, casually, as a sort of spontaneous thought that had just occurred to me.
Looking back, I am confident that the only one there who guessed I was a tyro at bar-drinking was Johnny Heinhold.
"Where'd he get it ?" I overheard Spider confidentially ask Johnny.
"Oh, he's been sousin' here with Nelson all afternoon," was Johnny's answer.
I never let on that I'd heard, but PROUD?
Aye, even the barkeeper was giving me a recommendation as a man.

"HE'S BEEN SOUSIN' HERE WITH NELSON ALL AFTERNOON." Magic words! The accolade delivered by a barkeeper with a beer glass! I remembered that French Frank had treated Johnny the day I bought the Razzle Dazzle.