He knew his patrons, and would stubbornly not sell drink, even beer or wine, to one he suspected of abusing the stuff.

As for rowdyism, it was known far and wide about Newbern that if you wanted to get thrown out of Herman's quick you had only to start some rough stuff, or even talk raw.

It was said he juggled you out the door like you were an empty beer keg.

Down by the riverside was another saloon for that sort of thing, kept by Pegleg McCarron, who would sell whisky to any one that could buy, liked rough stuff and with his crutch would participate in it.
When Herman decided that a customer was spending too much money for drink, that customer had to go to Pegleg's if he bought more.

And now the mayor at the little table connived at a flagrant breach of the law he had sworn to uphold, quaffing beer from his mug and melding a hundred aces as casually as if it were a week-day.
The other men at the little tables were also of the substantial citizenry of Newbern, including the postmaster, the editor of the _Advance_, and Rapp, Senior, of Rapp Brothers, Jewellery.