They passed so close to
where Reddy was hiding that merely by reaching out a black paw he could
have touched them. Because he took particular pains not to move, not
even to twitch a black ear, they did not see him. Anyway, if they did
see him, they took no notice of him. How the moments did drag! All the
time he lay there listening, wishing that Farmer Brown's boy would come,
yet dreading to have him come. It seemed ages before he heard sounds
which told him that people were awake in Farmer Brown's house.
Finally he heard a distant door slam. Then he heard a whistle, a merry
whistle. It drew nearer and nearer; Farmer Brown's boy was coming to
feed the hens. Reddy tried to hold his breath. He heard the click of the
henyard gate as Farmer Brown's boy opened it, then he heard the crunch,
crunch, crunch of Farmer Brown's boy's feet on the snow.
Suddenly the henhouse door was thrown open and Farmer Brown's boy
stepped inside. In his hand he held a pan filled with the breakfast he
had brought for the hens. Suddenly a box in the darkest corner of the
henhouse moved. Farmer Brown's boy turned to look, and as he did so a
slim form dashed fairly between his legs. It startled him so that he
dropped the pan and spilled the corn all over the henhouse floor. "Great
Scott!" he exclaimed. "What under the sun was that?" and rushed to the
door to see.
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