CHAPTER I
ANDY BURKE


"John, saddle my horse, and bring him around to the door."

The speaker was a boy of fifteen, handsomely dressed, and, to judge
from his air and tone, a person of considerable consequence, in his
own opinion, at least. The person addressed was employed in the stable
of his father, Colonel Anthony Preston, and so inferior in social
condition that Master Godfrey always addressed him in imperious tones.

John looked up and answered, respectfully:

"Master Godfrey, your horse is sick of the disease, and your father
left orders that he wasn't to go out on no account."

"It's my horse," said Godfrey; "I intend to take him out."

"Maybe it's yours, but your father paid for him."

"None of your impudence, John," answered Godfrey, angrily. "Am I
master, or are you, I should like to know!"

"Neither, I'm thinking," said John, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's
your father that's the master."

"I'm master of the horse, anyway, so saddle him at once."