own at the broom on the floor where Mrs. Bullfinch had
thrown it. A large hairy spider was just crawling out of the
broomstraws.

Jerry had never moved more quickly. Three steps and he had brought his
foot down hard. Jerry did not enjoy killing even a spider but this
time it seemed necessary, though he carefully refrained from looking
at the dead insect.

"Good boy!" said Mr. Bullfinch.

Mrs. Bullfinch, with a little help from her husband, got down from the
stool. She thanked Jerry earnestly and effusively.

"I'll not forget this. Someday I hope to do something for you. You
don't know how obliged to you I am. That spider might have killed me."

Jerry did not think that the spider had been the kind that would have
a bite that killed. Being thought a hero was pleasant, however. "Think
nothing of it," he said, looking more cocky than modest in spite of
his words.

"Where you want the pianer?" shouted one of the movers, and Mrs.
Bullfinch bustled off to the living room.

There did not seem to be any reason for Jerry to stay any longer. He
had a feeling that Mr. Bullfinch, though still very polite, had things
he wanted to see to. So Jerry murmured something about having to get
home and Mr. Bullfinch told him again that he was indebted to him for
killing the spider.

"I never knew anybody as afraid of spiders as Mrs. Bullfinch," he
said. "Everybody has something he's afraid of, I guess. With Mrs.
Bullfinch it's spiders."

Jerry didn't know if he should leave by the back or the front door but
Mr. Bullfinch led the way to the front. Jerry admired the grandfather
clock in the front hall. On the glass above its face there was a
painted globe in pale green and yellow. Jerry had almost reached the
front door when the clock struck five--long, solemn sounds of great
dignity.

"That sure is a big clock," said Jerry.

"I didn't buy that at an auction, it was in the family," said Mr.
Bullfinch. "When I was a little boy I once hid inside when we were
playing hide and seek. That was the time I stopped the clock," he
chuckled.

Suddenly Jerry thought of a safe hiding place for Mr. Bartlett's
money. What Mr. Bullfinch had said about hiding in the clock had given
him the idea.

"Say," he said with barely controlled excitement, "would you mind if I
kept the money I have on me in your clock?"

Mr. Bartlett gave Jerry a long appraising look. Then his eyes lit up
in one of his nice smiles. "Not at all. Not at all," he said
c