"Isn't it a dandy picture-the real thing-just as I've always imagined it. Herc!" Ned Strong wheeled from the gaudily colored lithograph he had been admiring, and turned to a red-headed youth of about his own age-almost eighteen-who stood beside him in the postoffice and general store at Lambs' Corners, a remote village in the Catskill mountains. "It's purty as a yearling colt," responded the lad addressed, examining once more, with an important air of criticism, the poster in question. The lithograph had been tacked up only the day before, but by this time half the boys in the neighboring country had examined it.