the sanctity of the law does not make the contemplated move right.
Harvey Trueman has a code of morals, an austere code, that has made him
enemies even among the people whose champion he has grown to be in three
years' practice of the law in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania.

He is a tall, slender, square-jawed man of thirty-six. His forehead is
high and broad and his hair is worn longer than that of other young
men--parted on the side and brushed back. He has thin lips and a mouth
of unusual width. His mouth-line is as straight as a bowstring, and when
he speaks, which is often, or smiles, which is not so frequent, he shows
an even line of large white teeth.

There is something very earnest in the expression of Harvey Trueman's
face--a soberness that is seldom found in men under fifty. A straight,
strong nose, large nostrils and clean shaven upper lip that is
abnormally long; cheek bones that stand out prominently; gray eyes set
rather deep in his head for so young a man; a square chin protruding
slightly; and wearing a frock coat that falls to his knees in limp
folds, Trueman is a commanding figure, full of character.

He is an inch over six feet in height. Among the miners who look
straight into the eye to read character, Harvey Trueman has been
pronounced an unflinching tool of the coal barons--one whose unbending
will means the ultimate accomplishment of any undertaking.

Not one of the miners employed by the Paradise Coal Company has ever
known the young lawyer to take an unfair advantage. But he has upheld
the law for the proprietors of the mines when the men have made a fight
against the "company stores," where they are forced to spend the wages
made by the sweat of their brows down in the mines or on the breakers.