Fabulous Five 027 - The Scapegoat

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Authors: Betsy Haynes
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"Yes. I taught her to count to ten,
and she went to bed saying her numbers." She took a deep breath. "Connie,
I wanted to tell you I had fun today. Rigel is such a beautiful horse. Thanks
for letting me ride him again."
    "He enjoyed it as much as you," responded Connie.
    "It's amazing how different Arabians are from other
horses. They're so small and sweet-looking."
    "The Arabs bred them to be small so they could bring
them into their tents when they needed to protect them," said Connie.
    "No kidding," responded Christie.
    "The Arabs also wanted their horses to be smart and to
be able to run long distances without tiring," Connie explained, "so
what they did was take small horses, and breed them with smart horses and
strong horses. That's how they got Rigel and his relatives."
    "That's interesting," remarked Christie.
    "It just shows you that if you take a few good things
and put them together, sometimes you can come up with something extraordinary."
    Christie was silent for a moment.
    "Are you still there?" Connie asked.
    "Yes . . . I was thinking about what you said. You've
given me an idea."
    "I have?"
    "Yes, and it's wonderful! Connie, if you still want me
to go to the movies with you, I'm not doing anything next Friday."
Christie gulped. She hadn't meant to say that. It had just popped out.
    Connie's voice sounded serious. "Do you mean that?"
    Christie hesitated for a moment. "Yes, I do," she
said softly.

CHAPTER 13
    "I know what I'm going to make tor my science project!"
Christie announced the next morning at breakfast.
    "You do?" asked her father, his coffee cup poised
in front of his mouth.
    "That's great, sweetheart," said Mrs. Winchell. "What
is it?"
    "It's really not an it," Christie explained. "It's
a them. Connie gave me the idea when I talked to him last night."
    "Well," said her father, "tell us what they
are. We're waiting with bated breath."
    Christie could hardly hold back her excitement as she told
her parents about her idea.
    "I think it's supercolossal," added Christie's
mother.
    "Sounds good to me," said Mr. Winchell. "I
wish I'd thought of it. It also sounds like an awful lot of work."
    "I made a list of things I'm going to need,"
Christie told them, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. "The only
thing that worries me is whether I can get everything fast enough."
    Her mother and father moved their chairs close so they could
look at the list together.
    "Wow, there are a lot of things on here,"
commented her father. "I can pick up some of them on the way home from
work."
    "And I think the British Museum might have these,"
said her mother. "Why don't you meet me there tomorrow after school? We'll
see what they've got."
    Mr. Winchell scratched his jaw. "You're going to need
some space to build this thing. I'll talk to the building custodian, Mr.
Dudley, and see if he can make room for you in the basement."
    For the first time in a long time, Christie felt satisfied.
She was absolutely positive no one else would have an idea like hers. Her
project would definitely be unique. It might also prove something else to Miss
Finney.
     
    "No science books, Miss Winchell?" asked Miss
Woolsey, looking over her glasses at Christie.
    "No, ma'am," replied Christie. "I've finally
made up my mind about my project."
    "Very good. I'm sure it will do well in the
competition," said the teacher.
    "Not if Miss Finney has anything to do with it,"
mumbled Becca from her seat next to Christie.
    "What was that, Miss Stewart?" asked Miss Woolsey
with a frown.
    Christie shook her head at Becca. She didn't want Miss
Woolsey to think she couldn't handle her own problems.
    "Nothing, ma'am."
    Miss Woolsey looked back at Christie before returning to her
desk.
    "You ought to tell Miss Woolsey what's going on,"
whispered Becca. "The way Miss Finney's treating you isn't right."
    "What can Miss Woolsey do about it?" Christie
whispered back. "She's a teacher just like Miss Finney. They even grew up
in the same town."
    Becca looked

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