"I've got to get that grocery money out of there. I've got to," Jerry thought, so excited and driven that he did not know he was shivering with cold.
Jerry rang the Bullfinch doorbell hard with one hand while he pounded on the door with the other.
Mr. Bullfinch came to the door. He looked only a little excited.
"Your house is on fire!" cried Jerry.
"I know. I know. I've called the fire department," said Mr. Bullfinch. "Won't you come in?" he asked politely, as if it were not strange to invite a person to come in a burning house.
Jerry was glad to get Mr. Bartlett's money safe in two pockets of his pajamas. There was too much of it for one.
"Want me to help carry out things?" he asked Mr. Bullfinch.
Mrs. Bullfinch was fluttering about, wondering what should be saved first, when sirens screeched and fire engines arrived on the scene.
By this time a small crowd had gathered to watch the fire. Jerry's mother brought out a jacket for him to put on over his pajamas. He was glad of its warmth and also because he could transfer Mr. Bartlett's money into larger pockets where bulges would not be so conspicuous.
It was not much of a fire. It was soon out. All that had burned was part of the eaves near the chimney. Jerry heard his father ask Mr. Bullfinch if he knew how the fire had started. And Mr. Bullfinch seemed slightly embarrassed as he explained what he thought must have happened.