Ruby of Kettle Farm Read Online Free Page A

out into the hallway, fuming. Uncle James was so unfair!
    â€˜Ruby’s quite right,’ she heard Aunt Vera say. ‘You’ve been against Baxter from the moment you saw him, and you just want an excuse to be rid of him.’
    â€˜Nonsense,’ replied Uncle James. ‘A dog that doesn’t work is a useless dog, and I’ve given this one several chances. He’s run out of luck.’
    â€˜Winifred might have something to say about that,’ Aunt Vera said. ‘Like Ruby, she’s very attached to Baxter. He’s a link with Harry. With happier times.’
    â€˜Winifred?’ said Uncle James. ‘It may have escaped your attention, Vera, but your sister has very little to say about anything these days. And why isn’t she here? Why isn’t she having breakfast with us? She mopes around like some kind of ghost. She never speaks, she never eats –’
    â€˜Hush, James,’ Aunt Vera said. ‘Not in front of the children, please.’
    â€˜Why not in front of the children? We all know what’s going on with Winifred. The wretched business with Harry is affecting all of us, one way or another. Things are falling apart.’
    â€˜If things are falling apart, we must do our best to put them back together again.’ Aunt Flora was speaking now. ‘We cannot magically remove the cause of Winifred’s sadness. But either Baxter is killing our fowls, or he is not.’
    Ruby tiptoed away down the hallway. Everything is so awful I can’t bear it, she thought. There must be something I can do – but what?

    â€˜This is the craziest plan I ever heard of,’ May said. ‘Who’s to say the fox that’s taking the chooks will turn up tonight?’
    â€˜It might,’ Ruby said. ‘And if it does, I want to see where it gets in. We have to prove to Uncle James that Baxter isn’t the thief.’
    It was past midnight, and she and May were in the chook yard, sitting together in the roosting shelter. They’d piled up straw to make a sort of bed and wrapped themselves in a smelly old blanket. The chooks had stopped their anxious squawking and had settled down to sleep on their perches.
    May leaned back into the straw and yawned. ‘Are you quite sure you want to do this?’
    â€˜I’m sure. But you don’t have to stay out here with me. I’ll be all right.’
    â€˜As if I’d leave a townie like you out here on your own! Anything could happen.’
    The straw was surprisingly comfortable. Ruby yawned, too, and snuggled down . . .
    The sound of the rooster crowing was so loud that she jumped. Oh my hat, she thought, dazed. It’s so close, it sounds as if it’s standing on our bedroom windowsill. Then she remembered where she was. All around her hens were making their early morning noises, scratching in the earth, fluffing their feathers in the chilly morning sunlight.
    May was snoring faintly, her mouth open, her curly hair full of straw. Ruby elbowed her in the ribs.
    â€˜Wake up, May. It’s morning already.’
    â€˜What? Who? Oh no – did the fox come?’
    â€˜If it did,’ Ruby said, ‘we missed it.’
    â€˜Drat,’ said May. ‘That means we’ll have to do this all over again tonight, doesn’t it?’

    But that night Ruby tiptoed out of the house alone.
    It had been a busy day. In the morning Ruby had gone into town with Uncle James and Walter to pick up her photographic prints. At last! She’d left the film to be developed weeks ago. She had just enough money to pay for the prints, with threepence left over. Once again there was nothing in the mail from Dad, but to her surprise there was a letter for Walter. He didn’t say anything about it, just stuffed it into his pocket.
    For the rest of the day she and May had worked hard, helping Aunt Vera to clean out the pantry, and after supper May had gone to