The Hobert Bill invites Prohibition agents and officers to go anywhere they desire without a search warrant, with the absolute assurance that in their unlawful occupation they are immune under the law. “Malice” is the most difficult thing in the world to prove—with the possible exception of “without reasonable cause.”
As a friend of mine, William L. Fish, says, “The Van Ness Act was the Bill Sykes of legislation, while the Hobert Act is the Iago.” Between two such arch villains there is little choice. We are not reforming the country, but deforming it.
If the people are to lose such cherished rights, there is little hope for America. Blind indeed are those who cannot read the writing on the wall. Surely there must come a reaction against such intolerable legislation.
Already one senses a change of feeling; for millions of us cannot be wrong when we claim that disregard of the laws of the land is as serious a problem as the old problem of the corner saloon. If, in correcting one evil, we bring to life greater evils, are we on the right track?
Solemnly up and down that room the officer walked, glancing here and there, after the manner of a soldier in the late war standing guard over military prisoners.
CHAPTER XI
BOOTLEGGING AND GRAFT
Prohibition, being a phenomenon, has inevitably bred other phenomena. The most ardent fighters for a dry United States are the Prohibitionists themselves—and the bootleggers. A new industry, which flourishes every day, despite the honest attempts of the Government to suppress it, has arisen. It brings in a fat profit to those who enter it. An incredible army of active workers is marching—or rather driving in motor-cars—through the land, doing a prosperous business. They do not deposit their earnings in our banks; for if they did so, the federal authorities could force them to pay an income tax. Instead, they put them in the proverbial stocking; and after a sufficient number of bank-notes—for it is usually a cash business that is carried on—are available many of the bootleggers, who are mostly foreigners, sail for parts unknown. There they intend to spend the rest of their days in peace and comfort and opulence. Why not?
I am writing of the evils of bootlegging not only as they apply to a great city like New York. In a certain western city of some 250,000 inhabitants—a city in a State which went dry long before the constitutional amendment—a woman told me that all she had to do was to ring up her favorite bootlegger when she was giving a dinner-party, and practically anything she desired would be delivered at her door within fifteen minutes. It is very difficult to get evidence against these diligent business men, and I have encountered only a few people who have conscientious scruples about dealing with them. It is hard to be consistent concerning Volsteadism. If the Act itself plays merry pranks on sea and shore, why should not human beings likewise forget their dignity once in a while?