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it’s okay.”
    â€œSure, Fin—good idea. It will take the hermies a while to get used to you. They may not come out of their shells until they feel they can trust you.”
    â€œOkay.” Finch went over to the table and stared into the tank. The crab in the small white shell with brown spots was hunkered down in a corner. “Hey, Anthony,” he said quietly.
    The crab in the larger shell poked out its eye-stalks. With its small claw it reached up and tapped the tank. Maybe it was crab-talk for “I’m hungry.” Fin reached for the jar called Hermit Crab Grub on the tray beside the tank. While he was reading the feeding instructions, his classmates started arriving. Some of them wandered over to the Critter Corner.
    â€œExcuse me, I’m one of the zookeepers.” Elliott elbowed through the kids and stood next to Finch. Kevin and Rajiv squeezed up to the table, too.
    Raj reached for the turtle food. “I’ll take care of Lima Bean.”
    â€œI’ll feed Hoover and you feed Eureka,” Elliott told Kev.
    â€œYou can’t feed one fish at a time,” Kev said. “You can’t even tell them apart.”
    â€œSure I can. I’m already an expert on them,” El replied. “For instance, do you know why goldfish are orange?”
    â€œNo, why?” Chloe and Kayla asked from behind the boys.
    Elliott peered over his shoulder and grinned. “Because the water makes them rusty.”
    â€œUhh,” Kev grunted. But Chloe and Kayla both giggled.
    â€œBoy, that stuff stinks,” Bud announced as Fin unscrewed the top to the hermit-crab food.
    â€œThen why don’t you go somewhere else?” Finch sprinkled the food into the crabs’ dish. Phil stuck his legs out of his shell. His antennae twitched. But Anthony didn’t move at all.
    â€œCome on, Anthony, it’s your breakfast, too.” Finch lifted the lid on the tank and picked up the smaller crab. “It’s okay, boy, I’m your friend,” he murmured as he held it on a flat, steady palm.
    Suddenly it seemed as if the entire class was in the Critter Corner, pushing and shoving to get closer to the tanks.
    â€œLet me see!”
    â€œCan I hold him?”
    â€œGimme.” A hand snatched Anthony off Finch’s palm.
    Finch whirled around.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Towelman?” Thorn jeered. “Did you lose your little super-crabby?” He raised his fist.
    â€œDon’t hold him like that!” Finch snapped. “You’ll scare him.”
    â€œScare him? It’s just a stupid crab. It doesn’t have feelings.”
    â€œGive him back!” Finch grabbed Thorn’s arm.
    Thorn shoved Finch away. Bam! Finch fell back against the table. Water sloshed out of the goldfish tank. Elliott threw his arms around it to steady it.
    Finch launched himself toward Thorn. “Give me that crab!” But Thorn stuck his arm straight up so that the fist that held Anthony was out of Finch’s reach.
    Finch leaped for the fist and stumbled forward. As he came down, his hand whacked Thorn on the nose.
    â€œOooooooh!” his classmates gasped.
    Flaaah! Flaaah! Flaaaaaaah! Mr. Burns blew his bugle so hard everyone jumped. Thorn’s hand sprang open.
    â€œNooo!” Finch cried as Anthony flew through the air. He felt a thump on the top of his sneaker. He looked down. Anthony was resting there.
    â€œEveryone freeze!”
    While the kids stood like statues, Mr. Burns strode over to the Critter Corner. He leaned down in front of Finch and scooped Anthony up.
    â€œIs he okay?” Finch asked.
    Mr. Burns brought his palm up to eye level. “I think so. Landing on the sneaker probably saved him—no thanks to you boys.”
    â€œMe? But it wasn’t my fault—” Finch began.
    â€œYes, it was.” Thorn sniffled. “You socked me and I dropped him. I couldn’t help it.” Blood was leaking out of