“Whose gun is that?” asked Godfrey, in the tone of one who was entitled to ask the question.

“Shure, it belongs to the owner,” said Andy, with a smile.

“Of course, I know that,” said Godfrey, impatiently.  “I’m not quite a fool.”

“Not quite,” repeated Andy, emphasizing the last word in a way which made Godfrey color.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“What do I mane?  It was only your words I repeated.”

“Then, don’t trouble yourself to repeat them—­do you hear?”

“Thank you; I won’t.”

“You didn’t tell me whose gun that is.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Very likely you stole it,” said Godfrey, provoked.

“Maybe you’ll go and tell the owner.”

“How can I when you haven’t told me whose it is?”

“No more I did,” said Andy with apparent innocence.

“Where are you going with it?”

“Goin’ out shootin’.”

“So I supposed.”

“Did you, now?  Then what made you ask?” returned Andy.

“You are an impudent fellow,” said Godfrey, provoked.

“I never am impudent to gentlemen,” said Andy, pointedly.

“Do you mean to say that I am not a gentleman?” demanded the other, angrily.

“Suit yourself,” said Andy, coolly.

“You’re only an Irish boy.”

“Shure, I knew that before.  Why can’t you tell me some news?  I’m an
Irish boy and I’m proud of the same.  I’ll never go back on ould
Ireland.”

“The Irish are a low set.”

“Are they now?  Maybe you never heard of Burke, the great orator.”

“What of him?”

“Shure, he was an Irishman; and isn’t my name Andy Burke, and wasn’t he my great-grandfather?”

“He must be proud of his great-grandson,” said Godfrey, sarcastically.

“I never axed him, but no doubt you’re right.  But it’s time I was goin’, or I shan’t get any birds.  Would you like to come with me?”

“No, I am particular about the company I keep.”

“I’m not, or I wouldn’t have invited you,” said Andy, who was rather quicker witted than his opponent.

“I should like to know where he got that gun,” said Godfrey to himself, following with his eyes the retreating figure of our hero.  “I am sure that isn’t his gun.  Ten to one he stole it from somebody.”

But Godfrey’s curiosity was not destined to be gratified that afternoon, as it might have been if he had seen Andy turning into the yard of the Misses Grant two hours afterward.  He had not shot anything, but he had got used to firing the gun, and was not likely to be caught again in any such adventure as that recorded in the last chapter.

CHAPTER X ANDY’S DEBUT AT SCHOOL

The first of September came, and with it came the opening of the fall schools.  On the first day, when Andy, at work in the yard, saw the boys and the girls go by with their books, he felt a longing to go, too.  He knew very well that his education had been very much neglected, and that he knew less of books than a boy of his age ought to do.