"There now," thought Rodney. "I said there was some one in Mooreville who wanted to get us into trouble, and Tom Randolph was the very fellow who came into my mind."
But he said nothing aloud. How did he know that young Randolph was the only enemy he had in Mooreville? He looked hard at Griffin and dropped into the nearest chair.
"Randolph is down on everybody who voted against him for second lieutenant," continued Griffin, "and he declared when he came home after the election that he would break up that company of Rangers if he could find any way to do it."
"He laid out a pretty big job for himself," said Rodney, when his visitor paused. "How did he think he would go to work to accomplish it?"
"Any way and every way. He didn't care so long as he broke it up. You can't imagine how tickled he was when he heard that you had mutinied and refused to be sworn in."
"Did Randolph start that ridiculous story about the mutiny?" inquired
Rodney.
"I don't know whether he set it going or not, but he helped it along all he could and had a good deal to say about it," answered Griffin. "Yesterday afternoon I was in the office when he came in and wrote a dispatch to the Governor; and as I have got so that I can read by sound, I had no trouble in spelling it out when Drummond the operator sent it off. I always do that for practice. Between you and me that Drummond is a fellow who ought to be booted out of that position. He's just too mean to be of any use."
"What was in the dispatch?" asked Rodney.
"It contained the information that the Rangers had mutinied and were about to leave the State in a body."
"That was a lie and Randolph knew it," said Rodney, hotly. "But even if we had decided to leave the State in a body, is there any law to prevent it? Such a thing was proposed, but it was voted down by a big majority, and that is why I am obliged to go alone."