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." "The colonel would blame me," objected John.
"If you don't, I'll report you and get you dismissed." "I'll take the risk, Master Godfrey," said the servant, good-humoredly.

"The colonel won't be so unreasonable as to send me away for obeying his own orders." Here John was right, and Godfrey knew it, and this vexed him the more.
He had an inordinate opinion of himself and his own consequence, and felt humiliated at being disobeyed by a servant, without being able to punish him for his audacity.