Narrowpath proudly. "_Export_
whisky. Fine sight, isn't it? Must be what?--twenty
--twenty-five--loads of it. This place, sir, mark my
words, is going to prove, with its new energy and
enterprise, one of the greatest seats of the distillery
business, in fact, _the_ whisky capital of the North--"
"But I thought," I interrupted, much puzzled, "that whisky
was prohibited here since last September?"
"Export whisky--_export_, my dear sir," corrected Mr.
Narrowpath. "We don't interfere, we have never, so far
as I know, proposed to interfere with any man's right to
make and export whisky. That, sir, is a plain matter of
business; morality doesn't enter into it."
"I see," I answered. "But will you please tell me what
is the meaning of this other crowd of drays coming in
the opposite direction? Surely, those are beer barrels,
are they not?"
"In a sense they are," admitted Mr. Narrowpath. "That
is, they are _import_ beer. It comes in from some other
province. It was, I imagine, made in this city (our
breweries, sir, are second to none), but the sin of
_selling_ it"--here Mr. Narrowpath raised his hat from
his head and stood for a moment in a reverential
attitude--"rests on the heads of others.
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