“Big brute!” he thought, disgusted. “I wonder how Randall ever got a cousin like that? But--what on earth is he doing here? If he and Bob are getting thick, I feel sorry for Bob.” This thought was disquieting to Merry. Could it be possible that Carson was back of Randall’s queer actions? It seemed improbable, for Randall had been keeping to himself, and Carson had not been seen at Fardale previous to this. Yet Frank knew that Bully possessed a crafty and cunning mind. He felt disturbed over Carson’s impudence in daring to show himself about the place. “Oh, well, I guess Randall can take care of himself,” he mused, and dismissed the subject lightly, and settled himself among the pillows again. He had been up early that morning, and it was a warm spring day. Consequently, it was only natural that he should feel drowsy. Taking advantage of the moment to relax utterly, Merry put back his head and closed his eyes. Almost before he knew it, he had dropped off into a light doze. He was roused by a sharp knock at the door, and sprang up instantly with a shout to enter. The door swung back and disclosed Colonel Gunn’s orderly. “You’re wanted at the office, Mr. Merriwell,” said the cadet, with symptoms of flurried haste. “Colonel Gunn sent me after you on the run.” “What’s up?” queried Frank, in surprise. “Is Randall in trouble?” “In up to his neck,” said the cadet. “But I’d better not say anything about it, I guess.” “All right,” and Merry seized his hat. “Come along!” CHAPTER XXXIII. ACCUSED OF THEFT. Colonel Gunn was fat, ponderous, and highly dignified. He owned his military title by virtue of having been an aid on the governor’s staff, but none the less he was an extremely capable man. Merry had no inkling of what trouble Randall was mixed up in, for the orderly had wisely refrained from discussing it. Upon entering the office of the principal, Chip found Colonel Gunn seated at his desk. Before him was Randall, white-faced and evidently badly frightened, while at one side stood the constable from Fardale village. To judge by the general air of things, the situation was anything but pleasant for Bob Randall. Merry came to attention. “Ah, Mr. Merriwell,” exclaimed the colonel, in his ponderous style, “I sent for you at--ah--Mr. Randall’s request. There is a considerable--ah--difficulty, and Mr. Randall seems to think that you can--ah--help matters out. I’m sure I hope so.” “Yes, sir,” returned Frank, quite in the dark as yet. “I didn’t know that Randall was in any trouble, sir.” “I did not intend to convey that--ah--intelligence, Merriwell. I merely ventured the--ah--statement that there was a difficulty. You will please note that there is not only a technical, but a moral, difference--I might say a tremendous difference--between leveling an accusation of--ah--guilt, or presupposing such a conclusion, and making a statement of bare and unvarnished fact.” Merry was tempted to smile, but knew better.