"That ain't my business, Master Godfrey," he said. "You must fight
your own battles."

"Go away from here," said Godfrey, imperiously advancing toward that
part of the fence against which Andy Burke was leaning.

"Will you take back what you said agin' my mother?"

"No, I won't."

"Then you're a blackguard, if you are a rich man's son."

The blood rushed to Godfrey's face on the instant. This was a palpable
insult. What! he, a rich man's son, the only son and heir of Colonel
Anthony Preston, with his broad acres and ample bank account--he to be
called a blackguard by a low Irish boy. His passion got the better of
him, and he ran through the gate, his eyes flashing fire, bent on
exterminating his impudent adversary.




CHAPTER II
A SKIRMISH


Andy Burke was not the boy to run away from an opponent of his own
size and age. Neither did he propose to submit quietly to the
thrashing which Godfrey designed to give him. He dropped his stick and