the place, Richard P. Stanlock, president and controlling power of the
Hollyhill Coal Mining company, which owned a string of mines in the
mountain district near the divisional line of two states. Besides
being the leading citizen, Mr. Stanlock was the "biggest" man in town,
because of the position to which he had risen, his ability to hold it,
and the influence that went with it. What he said usually went, but
his hand was not always evident. He liked to see things done,
doubtless enjoyed the realization that his was the great moving power
that produced results, but didn't give a fig to have anybody else know
it. To his intimate friends, who were few, and to the many with whom
he would pass the time of day, he was as common in word and manner as
the average householder with nothing more pretentious in life than
the earning of his daily bread.

But in spite of all this simplicity and personal retirement Mr.
Stanlock was a good deal of a mystery to many citizens who knew really
little about him. Or perhaps he was a mystery to these fellow
townsfolk because of his modest qualities. Knowing little about him,
they imagined more. Leading citizens who knew his good qualities were
ever ready with a word of praise for him. But the trouble was, the
needed tangible evidence of his broad philanthropy was utterly
lacking. Seldom was there a visible connecting link between him and a
good deed. And so the praise of his work in pulpit, press and other
public and semi-public places fell as platitudes before a considerable
number of skeptics, whose favorite reply to this sort of thing was
something like--

"Bunk."

But Marion knew that it wasn't "bunk." She was one of the few